


Pleine D'amour

by LovePotionNo9



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Hurt, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Protective Arthur Morgan, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20928293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovePotionNo9/pseuds/LovePotionNo9
Summary: My first work posted on here.When Sophie de Belfort first moved to Strawberry, she had no idea that her life would become entwined with the destiny of a certain outlaw...





	1. Chapter 1

Strawberry was a picturesque settlement in West Elizabeth. A pretty tourist town, small but well kept, away from the humid bustle of Saint Denis, and away from the constant smell of manure of Valentine. Colourful flowers filled window boxes, and clean cobblestones paved every avenue , almost as if they were scrubbed daily by it's inhabitants.

It was the perfect place to call home.

Sophie looked excitedly to her father, Louis, unable to contain her smile. “Isn't this grand, papa?”

Louis laughed heartily at his daughter’s enthusiasm. He took in a deep breath. 

“Smell the air of the mountains, Sophie..” he beamed with a thick French accent. “This place is truly _ le pays du bon Dieu.. _”

Sophie steered the wagon underneath the town’s welcoming way, the letters spelling STRAWBERRY spread across the pine lintel. Further into the town and across the main bridge was a welcome centre, with a jovial, stout man standing in it’s balcony. 

“Welcome to Strawberry!” beamed the man. Dressed sharply in a blue frock coat and top hat, his white facial hair impeccably kept in a thick moustache and mutton chops. “Enjoy your stay in our fair town!”

“See papa? It’s a beautiful place.” Sophie gushed, looking around to take in her surroundings. 

“Sophie, lookout!” Louis yelled, attempting grabbing hold of the reins in his daughter’s hands. Sophie at the last minute stopped the wagon in before almost colliding with a man on a horse. 

“Watch where yer goin’!” he yelled angrily, waving his hand in frustration. 

Sophie blushed and averted her eyes, feeling ashamed at almost hitting the man, but she managed to regain her composure.

“I’m so sorry, _ monsieur _..” she apologized, as she managed to turn her head to face him. Once she made eye contact with him, she almost lost her breath. 

The most beautiful blue-green eyes she’s ever seen in her life looked to her, with curiosity.

And annoyance. 

“Please excuse my daughter, _ monsieur _… we are new in this town.” Louis interjected when he realized Sophie was embarrassed. 

“It’s okay, mister..” the stranger responded, shrugging his broad shoulders. The stranger was dressed in a brown trapper’s coat and a black leather gambler’s hat. He rode up the side where Louis sat and tipped his hat in greeting. 

“My name is Louis de Belfort, and this is my daughter, Sophie..” he motioned to the young woman beside him. 

“Sophie, _ dis quelque chose _..” he whispered to Sophie, “Say something..”

Sophie nodded politely, still feeling her face flushed with colour. 

The man gave a comforting smile. “Arthur Morgan..” he said, as he reached to shake M. de Belfort’s hand. 

Sophie forced a smile to maintain some sense of courtesy. “I apologize for earlier..”

“It’s no trouble, ma’am. Just be careful next time…” Arthur offered, still eyeing her. 

“_ Oui, monsieur _.” Sophie responded, averting her eyes once more. 

"Where are you from, sir?” Louis asked with genuine curiosity.

“Around..” Arthur chuckled throatily, averting his eyes from Sophie, back to Louis. “Where ya headed? I can escort you there..”

“It is no trouble, _ monsieur _. We shall be setting up shop soon, do come by when we open!” Louis opened his arms enthusiastically. 

“Openin’?” Arthur scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Whatcha openin’?”

“We are opening a…” Louis paused, looking back to his daughter for help. 

“Bakery, papa.” Sophie nodded, smiling genuinely this time. 

_ “Ah oui _, bakery..” Louis repeated, his face beaming with pride. “We hope to open in a month. My daughter has quite the gift...”

“Bakery, really..” Arthur nodded, stealing another look at Sophie. He smirked at her shyness. “Sure why not? I’ll pass by…”

“_ Excellent _!” Louis said, clapping his hands. “We hope to see you then!”

Arthur nodded again graciously. “Y’all be safe now..” he motioned with his hand in parting. Arthur’s eyes went back to Sophie, who immediately averted her eyes. Something about this man made her extremely uncomfortable...in more than one way. 

“Sophie, I am surprised at you.” her father looked at her, concerned as they rode away. “You are normally not this shy.”

“I..” Sophie stammered, unable to form a thought. _ Who was that man? _

“No excuses, you must remember your manners and duties as a hostess. I know this is a new beginning for both of us…” he began, offering his daughter a sympathetic smile. “But we won’t make any new friends without some kindness.”

“Papa, he looks like a bandit, did you see all the guns he had?” Sophie remarked, rolling her eyes, trying to justify her reaction. Something about him just made her uneasy..but also caused her heart to beat wildly in her chest.

“Nonsense..” Louis tutted, waving his hand at his daughter. “This is a frontier town, it is not so unusual.”

Sophie nodded, conceding the point, as she directed the horses to go to the East side of town.

\---

Arthur watched from a distance as the man and his daughter rode away, a wagon filled with what he assumed were their only possessions. He took a deep breath, remembering how she looked at him. 

_ She was scared.. _he thought, his smile disappearing.

Large doe eyes, and dark, wavy hair...the girl was a vision to behold, wearing a periwinkle coat and skirt set that hugged her curves tightly. 

_ What a damn shame. _Arthur shook his head. He felt his heart swell with emotion, even as his rugged face remained stoic. Despite his usual self-loathing, he felt a small glimmer of hope, remembering her father’s invitation. 

A small smile came back, not remembering the last time someone was kind to him, simply out of goodness, let alone that person being a girl’s father. He had a kind face.

Arthur’s smile remained as he rode out of Strawberry, his heart feeling as light as air for the first time in years.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Morgan revisits Strawberry, to find the bakery open and thriving.

A couple of months went by, Sophie and her father opened the bakery. Soon the east side of Strawberry smelled of warm yeast and sweet baked breads. As tourists began visiting the town, the bakery became more popular, even amongst the locals. 

The mayor himself was there to help with the ribbon cutting. Sophie beamed with pride as she looked up at the store front. In large, neatly painted golden letters across the landscape window, was written “Boulangerie Impériale”. 

The walls were painted a bright turquoise, with gold bordering a la art nouveau lining the ridges of the ceiling. A clean white marble lunch counter with tall wooden stools gleamed in the sunlight of the autumn day, bright and happy displays of classic french pastry and breads were scattered throughout the store shelves and front window, an inviting smell of sweet cream and butter wafting into the street. 

During the ribbon cutting, a large crowd of locals and tourists waited outside impatiently. Once the doors opened, business began booming. It was both she and her father initially, but they later hired a local boy named Donovan O’Reilly to come and help process the orders. Donovan, was a skinny boy of 20 with dark auburn hair, a smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose, and deep green eyes. 

Sophie spent most of the time in the kitchen, decorating and preparing the various pastries for display. Each moment was meticulously dedicated so that each piece was a work of art. 

After a couple of months of business, she sat at the counter, adding figures in the accounting logbook. Frowning in concentration, she dipped her pen into the inkwell to continue her math. 

Donovan had just finished closing up the shop, he turned to Sophie as he buttoned up his black wool coat. 

“All set, Miss Sophie!” he exclaimed in a thick Irish accent, his smile cheerful. Sophie looked up from her work, nodding gratefully. 

“_Merci_, M. O’Reilly” Sophie said dully, her eyelids falling from exhaustion. “Please, help yourself to anything you want on your way home.”

Donovan nodded, swiftly grabbing two loaves of warm bread and a couple of madeleines. 

“See you tomorrow Miss Sophie, give my best to Mr. Belfort” Donovan said as he walked towards the entrance. He was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw an imposing figure standing in the doorway. 

Arthur looked down at the youth, a questioning brow raised. 

“Pardon me, sir..” Donovan muttered, clearly a little frightened. 

Arthur did not speak, nor did he break eye contact with the boy, even as he moved his large body away so the boy could leave. Donovan immediately made a run for it, looking back at the mysterious man in the doorway.

The colour drained from Sophie’s face. She was alone in the store, and her father had stepped out to make a bank deposit. 

Arthur turned to look back at the woman behind the counter, and he felt his pulse quicken. She was wearing a dark blue peasant blouse, it’s neckline tantalizingly low to show off her décolletage, but not low enough to be salacious. A messy apron tied around her black corseted waist, falling over a grey cloth skirt. Smears of flour on her face, her eyes lined with kohl, she still was stunning, even after a hard day’s work. 

Sophie swallowed, a little worried for her safety. She still didn’t know this man, but very discreetly noticed he was much more put together since the last time she saw him. His sandy brown hair was longer, smooth strands falling around his face, wearing an emerald green duster coat, with a silver paisely vest, and dark grey trousers. 

He always looked so intimidating, but whenever she managed to look into his eyes, she saw softness, and something else she couldn't quite indentify. Arthur’s lips formed a small smile as he saw her. 

“Can I help you, _ monsieur _?” she asked, arms folded in front of her. 

Arthur cleared his throat, and motioned to his left cheek. 

“You have some flour there..” he said, his tone friendly but a little amused. 

Sophie’s hand immediately went up to wipe the flour, her face turning pink. Arthur thought her reaction was charming.

“My…my father’s at the bank…” she stammered, flustered. _ Why am I acting like this? _

Arthur looked around at the bakery, not bothered by what she said. “You decorate this place?”

Sophie nodded, her eyes softening.

Arthur moved his eyes back to her. “It’s beautiful..” he murmured, his voice lowering an octave. 

Sophie felt her temperature skyrocket at the sound of his voice, and she felt her breath catch in her chest. 

“Can I offer you some coffee?” she asked in a hushed tone, turning away, hoping he couldn’t see her reaction. 

“Sure”, Arthur responded in his characteristic Southern drawl, removing his hat and pulling out a stool. 

Sophie carefully poured the coffee into a pristine white cup before handing it carefully to Arthur, Arthur reached for the cup with both hands, his rough fingers briefly brushing hers. He immediately noticed her hand began to tremble at his touch. 

“Sophie..” he murmured deeply, holding the cup more securely while looking at her, seeing her chest rise and fall rapidly. Her eyes wide with concern, she opened her mouth to say something.

“Sophie, easy..” he said again, this time reaching for her hand. It was rather forward, but Arthur knew she was afraid. 

Sophie never spoke, just kept looking at his eyes, searching for his intent. She was normally practical, and never naively trusting, but his voice was soothing, as if he were singing a lullaby. 

“Sophie, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He whispered, gently giving her fingers a squeeze. “Besides, I’ve already forgiven you for nearly runnin' me over.”

At which point, Sophie’s brown eyes narrowed, and her face turned beet red. 

“I didn’t mean it purposefully..” she muttered, lips pouting, nose flinching. 

Arthur smirked at her reaction, knowing she’d loosened up. _ Perfect. _

“It’s a joke, darlin’…” he chuckled. “Are you always this easy to rile up?”

“No.” Sophie said with conviction, apparently bothered while looking away.

“I think you are.” Arthur asserted playfully, letting his eyes roam all over her while she didn’t notice.

_ God, she’s beautiful, _he thought to himself, feeling his own breath catch in his lungs.

All the while, Arthur was still holding her small hand in his. A part of him relished the feeling of her slim fingers slowly slipping from his hand, the other upset she was pulling away from him. 

In an instant, there was a rapping at the store front door. Sophie’s head immediately turned, hoping to see her father. Instead, it was the Sheriff. Sophie quickly looked to Arthur, before going to answer the door. 

“_ Bon soir _, sheriff, can I help you?” she asked as she opened the french door carefully. 

“Evenin’ Miss Sophie,” the sheriff rumbled as he let himself in, brushing past her. Sophie’s eyes widened at the intrusion, surprised by his lack of etiquette. Outside, she noticed angry, grey clouds beginning to circle the town, hiding the previously perfect blue sky. A chilly North wind blew, causing Sophie to shiver briefly.

“We’re closed at the moment.” Sophie offered in a friendly tone, however Arthur could feel she was restraining anger. 

“The O’Reilly boy said there’s a vagabond in here.” The sheriff started, looking to Arthur curiously. 

Arthur put down his cup before turning to look at the sheriff. 

“There’s no need for name callin’..” Arthur retorted, sizing up his opponent. Stout, with large, fuzzy mutton chop sideburns and a receding hairline, the sheriff didn’t look too hard to subdue if things came down to it.

“If the store is closed, why is he here?” The sheriff turned to Sophie. Arthur looked to her expectantly, wondering what she would say. 

Sophie immediately inserted herself between the two men, standing in front of a seated Arthur, his eyes wide at how close she was to him. He felt Sophie touch his right hand that was instinctively reaching for the sawed off shotgun he kept in his holster. 

“He’s a guest of my father’s..” Sophie blurted out. “..and he should be back any minute.”

The sheriff’s eyes went from Sophie to Arthur, then back to Sophie. The way her body was positioned, he couldn’t see Arthur’s defensive, which would have otherwise caused him to draw his own revolver and shoot. 

Arthur’s heart began beating faster, the closeness of her beginning to mire his senses. His facial expression did not change however, as he continued to stare down the sheriff. 

The sheriff straightened before finally tipping his hat. “Then this has all been a misunderstandin’, y’all have a good night.” he smiled at Sophie before giving a scolding look to Arthur. He turned on his boot heel to leave through the front door, looking back briefly before mounting his horse to ride away.

Sophie let out a deep breath of relief, her body falling back on Arthur. Immediately realizing what she did, she pulled away and straightened her skirts. Arthur could tell she was agitated, and a part of him wondered how long her father would be gone, and if he could get away with kissing her while she was like this. 

The thought of kissing her immediately awakened something in Arthur he thought was long dead. He felt a familiar fire build in his lower abdomen, and warm clouds of lust formed over his eyes, plaguing his thoughts, almost causing him to lose all sense of reason. 

_ She didn’t turn me in.. _he thought to himself. 

“Monsieur Morgan!” came a jovial voice from the doorway.

Louis had just come back, his arms filled with brown paper bags. Sophie surmised he had gone to the general store and butcher to pick up food for dinner as she walked towards her father to help. 

“Mr. Belfort..” Arthur nodded and got up to shake his hand. 

“I’m so sorry to have missed you, I trust my daughter has been a good hostess.” Louis shot a look of concern to Sophie, who simply shrugged her shoulders as she took a bag filled with groceries. 

“Oh, she’s been great.” Arthur offered, smiling genuinely, fighting back his earlier emotions. “Best coffee in Strawberry.”

Louis beamed, relieved. “Would you like to stay with us for dinner? We would love to have your company.”

Arthur noticed a faint blush come up to Sophie’s cheeks, as she smiled and turned away. 

“Naw, I think I best be goin’. There’s a storm brewin’..” he hesitated, before adding “But thank you for the offer.”

Sophie sighed, partly in relief, and partly in disappointment. She didn’t quite know how to process this dichotomy of emotions, or why she wanted him to stay. 

Louis however, did not stop smiling. “_ Quel dommage _, some other time perhaps. In the meantime, feel free to come back, we should be expanding our offerings in the coming months.”

Arthur nodded in thanks as Louis walked him outside to his horse. Sophie walked behind both men before stopping short in the doorway. Leaning against the door post, her arms crossed over her chest, she watched as the two men spoke and Arthur mounted his horse. 

Arthur tipped his hat to her and her father as he rode away, the cold rain now picking up and pouring.

Sophie smiled inwardly, secretly hoping to see him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's quiet time.

_ That feller and his daugher opened the bakery in Strawberry. Nice place, almost too pretty for the likes of this town. I haven’t felt welcome somewhere in a long time, and he always seems to want me to come back. Maybe I will. _

_ Don’t know what to make of Sophie, his daughter. Pretty little thing, I probably don’t deserve to look at her, so pure but so afraid. I don’t know if she’s really afraid of me, but she stopped the local sheriff from arresting me.  _

_ All I know is...I can’t get her out of my head.  _

Arthur scribbled that last sentence in his journal before rubbing the back of his neck. The rain continued in Strawberry for 5 days since he left the bakery. Raindrops harshly peppered the window of the hotel room, the light of the oil lamp creating a warm yellow glow against the darkness outside. 

He should’ve ridden back days ago, back to camp to bring meat and supplies. Instead, he just kept wandering the forests around Strawberry, casually passing by the bakery from a distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again. Something about her caused him to feel protective of her, despite only meeting her twice. 

Turning to the previous page, he looked back at his drawings of the shop, Louis, and finally Sophie. 

His fingers hovered briefly over the penciled outline of her mouth, and he closed his eyes, picturing her in his mind. Her brown eyes, her round face framed by the charcoal waves of her hair, her soft pink lips forming this perfect rosebud. Arthur wondered if one day, her lips would tell him she loved him. 

Or moan his name. 

He imagined how they would feel if he one day would pull her head back by her hair and…

He opened his eyes with a start, his body now aflame with desire and want, longing for her. A pang of guilt washed over him, as he looked at himself in the mirror. 

Arthur looked at his own face, his hair, and his hands, hands that have killed, robbed, and plundered, all in the name of the Dutch Van Der Linde gang. He rolled his fingers into fists, self hatred and rage now filling his heart. Before he could control himself, he punched the mirror. 

Hard. 

So hard that the entire full length mirror had cracked, causing his reflection to be broken.

_ Some stains will never be washed away,  _ he thought to himself before removing his overcoat for the night. 

The next morning, he took the first stage coach out of Strawberry back to Rhodes. As he sat in the coach, Arthur put his head in his hands, confusion and panic gripping his psyche. 

He knew he’d be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/critiques welcome! Thanks for stopping by.


	4. The Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets an invitation he did not expect.

“This is most certainly not necessary” Sophie pouted as she rolled her eyes.

“A woman should not have to walk the streets alone” Arthur grumbled matter-of-factly, walking closely beside her. 

“This will give the town the wrong impression,” she whispered, a blush forming on the apples of her cheeks. 

“Or the right one.” Arthur chuckled lowly, looking to see her reaction. 

Sophie blushed deeply. “You’re incorrigible, Arthur..” she laughed gaily. Arthur loved hearing her laughter, as if her laughter was a song, reverberating through the dark caverns of his mind, shaking away the darkness, cobwebs, and loneliness that dwelled there. In the last few weeks, he had made a habit of coming by the bakery, either to buy coffee or a large order bread for the camp. He couldn't remember a time when he enjoyed a woman's company so much...not since Mary. 

Arthur shook his head to rid himself of the memory. He was tired of Mary's ghost inhabiting his subconscious. 

“What book did you get?” Arthur asked, genuinely curious as his blue eyes gazed at the parcel she had in her hands. 

“_ Le compte de Monte Cristo _” she replied, rubbing the brown parcel lovingly. 

“Never heard of it” Arthur shrugged as they walked to the East Side of Strawberry, his hands in his pockets. 

“It’s a story of revenge and political intrigue” Sophie explained, “The main character is arrested on false pretenses, loses his family and fiancée, finds a fortune, and then reinvents himself as The Count of Monte Cristo..”

“Fortune and revenge, huh?” Arthur repeated, pensively. “I woulda just taken the money. Revenge is a fool’s game.”

“As I’m sure you’d appreciate if you read the book.” Sophie quipped as closed her eyes, amused. 

“I don’t do much readin’..” Arthur said hesitantly, a little embarrassed. “Don’t have the time fer it”

Sophie gazed at him, and licked her lips thoughtfully. “Would you…..like to read it with me?”

Arthur looked to her again, wide eyed at her invitation. “Like...reading it together?” 

“Yes.” she said, breathing deeply. “I think you might enjoy it.” 

“When? Yer... always so busy during the day..” Arthur stammered, still not believing what he heard. 

“Well, how about in the evening? Come by and...we can read it together.”

“Now that…” he turned to face her and flashed her a wicked smile. “..will give the wrong impression.”

“Oh..” Sophie frowned, feigning concern. “Then what do you suggest?”

Arthur was truly astounded by her ambition. “How about..I come by after the street lights is up? You get on my horse, and we find us a place to...read.” he answered, emphasizing the last word with a sly smile. 

Sophie averted her eyes back to the street, thinking the offer over. 

“You have yourself a deal.” she answered cooly, smiling proudly. “I may even teach you _un peu de_ _français_ someday too..”

He scoffed at the idea, his facial expression turning into a scowl. 

Sophie silently giggled to herself at his reaction. They continued walking until the smell of warm yeast invaded their senses, knowing they were close to the shop. 

“I’ll come by around midnight tonight...you ain’t got work tomorrow, ain’t ya?” Arthur asked, stopping short before the bakery to walk to his horse. 

“No, we’re closed on Sundays.” Sophie nodded, a fresh shade of pink tinting her cheeks. 

“See you tonight then, Miss Sophie..” Arthur tipped his hat to her before riding away. 

Sophie looked around, wondering if anyone saw him with her. In the back, she could hear her father arguing with the new chef, Henri, over the seasoning of the soup of the day. They would soon be closing up for the evening.

The sun was beginning to set, turning the sky into a deep shade of red. A feeling of excitement overtook Sophie as she ran into the bakery and up the steps to the flat above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have suggestions as to where the story should go, please feel free to add you input! :)


	5. One Less Set of Footsteps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to MsApril91 for this prompt. :)

Arthur straightened his jacket as he looked at himself in the hotel mirror.

I look awful, he thought to himself, beyond annoyed at how his neckerchief would not stay straight.

Outside his window, the sun had just begun to set, colouring the sky in a watercolour haze of magenta and yellow.

He couldn’t believe his luck. He actually was going to see her again, and this time alone, away from the prying eyes of the town.

_What the hell are you doing_? A voice in his head said. _Yer doing it again_.

Arthur frowned, hoping to silence that voice of self doubt.

_Yer wasting yer time. You have nothing to give her._

Arthur felt his hands clench to fists, anger rising in his chest. Then he remembered the smile on Sophie’s face, her excitement about tonight. It was enough to make him smile again.

Taking a white rose from a vase in his room, he was about to place his hat back on before he heard a knock at the door, an insistent knock that sounded of urgency.

“Arthur! Arthur, you in there?” came Charles’ voice through the door.

Arthur immediately stopped what he was doing and opened the door. Charles stood in front of him, concern miring his dark features.

“Arthur where have you been?” Charles began, his voice calm.

“Taking care of things..” Arthur replied without emotion, hiding the white rose behind his back.

“Things that include getting dressed up for?” Charles observed with his eyebrows raised, seeing Arthur’s new clothes.

“Charles, mind yer damn business. What ya here for anyways?” Arthur growled, his annoyance showing. “If it’s about provisions, I was riding back tomorrow.”

“No, it’s not that.” Charles answered, “But you’re needed back at Clemens Point. Immediately.”

“Tonight?” Arthur asked, taken aback.

“Yes, tonight. Dutch needs to speak to you”

Arthur’s brow clenched into a deep frown.

“I’ll…..be down in a minute..” Arthur all but grimaced. Charles raised yet another questioning brow.

“Why are you so upset? Did you have other plans?” Charles asked, looking Arthur over. Arthur’s hair was freshly washed and pomaded, and it looked like he had recently shaved.

“Just go downstairs before I throw you out that damn window..” Arthur grumbled, turning to grab his satchel.

Charles raised his hands in surrender. “Nevermind, then. Meet you by the horses.”

Arthur adjusted his satchel quickly before looking down at the white rose in his hand. He heaved a deep sigh as he cast it onto the bed.

_Maybe it’s better this way._ He thought to himself as he descended the stairs.

***

Sophie waited by her bedroom window, looking out to see if she could spot Arthur’s horse, Bucephalus.

The street lights had been lit 3 hours ago, and Louis had retired to bed.

Sneaking past Louis’ room, she made it down to the main bakery. She opened the front door, and walked outside.

The cool air of the evening gripped her quickly as she adjusted her red wool coat. The streets were otherwise deserted, with only the light of the saloon shining through the blackness.

Sophie palmed the parcel she held in her hands, somehow trying to reassure herself that he would come. She had packed some pinwheel cookies in the hopes of giving them as a gift.

After an hour, it was close to midnight, and the temperature had dropped to freezing. Sophie felt tears begin to sting the corners of her eyes. Sniffling she went back in, quickly removing her coat and gloves. She walked back up to her room, tossing the parcel and book on her bed.

Fighting back tears, she sat down on the edge of her bed, not sure what to feel. She felt like a fool.

Nothing but a little fool.

Quietly, sobs began to shake her little body as she cried. She looked back at the parcel on her bed, before angrily picking them up and throwing them into the nearby waste basket.

Undressing, she replaced the book on her bookshelf before slipping into her nightgown and dragging herself back to her bed. Staring at the plastered ceiling above, she hoped sleep would overtake her.

_Why do I care?_ She asked herself. _He’s just a customer…_

_He’s more than that_, her mind responded.

_No, he’s not. _

Over the last few weeks, she had grown to enjoy his company, truth be told. He walked her about town, making attempts at small talk that she found charming.

He always seemed to be in conflict with himself. There was the side he showed her, one that was friendly and kind, and another she had yet to see, but knew was there. Something behind his ocean coloured eyes spoke of anger, violence, and aggression that almost frightened her.

The more she thought about it, she still had no idea about who Arthur really was. 

Sophie didn’t know if he had a family somewhere, or what he did for a living. These were questions she wanted to ask, but didn’t want to push him for answers.

Now, as she lay in her bed, thinking of him…she began to wonder.

These questions swirled in her mind, causing her to fall into a fitful slumber. Outside, the first few snowflakes of winter began falling.

Flashes of her deepest desires crossed her subconscious, depicting Arthur and her, laying together in bed, naked and in the throes of passion. His mouth ravishing hers, as her fingers gripped his broad, muscular back, whispering words of love, and promises of forever.

A small tear formed in the corner of her eye at the thought as she lay sleeping, before falling into the blackness of her hair. 

Another that crossed her eyes was Arthur’s form, sitting alone, an expression of fear and longing on his handsome face. Sophie looked briefly into his eyes as his dream form looked back at her, speaking in silence.

_Save Me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and critiques welcome! Thanks for reading!


	6. The Telegram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has gone by, still no word from Arthur.
> 
> Sophie has told herself to forget him, but cannot stop thinking about him. But she will soon find out she's not the only one looking for him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know to whoever's following this story, it may seem a tad simpering and cute.
> 
> However, I fully intend on making this the love story that Arthur Morgan deserves. Love is patient and kind, and can survive no matter the barriers. 
> 
> This chapter is going to begin that test. Stay tuned!

A week passed, then a couple of weeks, then a month. Still no word from Arthur Morgan.

Sophie sighed deeply as she arranged the last order of butter rolls in the display case. These small tasks would’ve normally given her a sense of pride to complete. Today, all it caused was frustration.

Louis studied his daughter as he served a customer. He noticed a change in her demeanor, but wasn’t sure what caused it. He was also aware that Arthur no longer came by as often.

Louis wanted to ask what happened, but felt it best not to. He knew Sophie would tell him when she was ready.

After finishing the display, Sophie removed her apron before turning to her father.

“I’m going out, papa..” she stated, not making eye contact.

Louis nodded, not refusing. “_A bien tot, mon petit_” he called after her as Sophie walked outside.

Adjusting her red wool coat, she raised the hood over her head to ward off the falling snow. Strawberry was in the midst of winter now, the snow covering the town in a blanket of white, adorning the surrounding pines with sparkling white wedding dresses and crystal earrings of ice.

She mounted her horse and started off through the town, smiling and waving to the people she recognized. But her eyes scanned every nook and cranny, every alleyway, hoping to see him.

_Oh give up_, her mind told her. _He’s not coming back_.

Sophie pouted, feeling sadness blossom in her chest. She rode towards the hotel, hoping to see his horse there.

Nothing.

Nudging the horse to a full gallop, she rode to Rigg’s Station through the cool air, it’s icy fingers caressing her cheeks. After hitching her horse, she quickly walked into the station.

“Mail for _de Belfort_” she murmured, defeated. _Maybe he really is gone for good_.

The postmaster reached behind the desk for a small wad of envelopes.

“You also have a telegram.” He chimed, handing her a small slip of paper from Western Union.

Sophie’s brow furrowed into a frown. “Telegram? From who?”

“A…Tacitus Kilgore” he read the slip before handing it to her.

“I don’t know a Tacitus…” Sophie stopped short when she read the paper. Quickly holding it up to the oil lamp, she began reading.

**Dearest Sophie. STOP**

**Meet me at Rigg’s Station tonight. STOP. Make sure you come alone. STOP**

** \- ** **AM**

Sophie’s lips became one thin line as red flashed in front of her eyes. She crumpled the paper into a ball and shoved it into her purse.

“Merci, monsieur” she offered, grabbing the remaining letters. The postmaster tipped his hat to her as she walked out of the post office.

Unbeknownst to Sophie, a pair of curious eyes had been watching her as she walked into the snow storm, slowly following her as she left.

****

Arthur opened his journal, and set his pencil to the page.

_I hurt her. I didn’t want to, but I did. _

Arthur sighed deeply as he continued to write.

_I should’ve known better. Why I came around and stayed, I just made things worse. A month has gone by, and it is with a heavy heart I provide for this camp. Dutch does not seem to grasp that we are no longer wanted in this world. _

_I see her face in my dreams, and I dare to dream that she might still care for me. But now, who knows._

Arthur closed his journal noisily before replacing it in his satchel, a look of bewilderment on his face.

_I have to see her. _

As quickly as he thought it, he grabbed his gambler’s hat and a heavier coat before rushing out of his tent. He knew the first snowfall would’ve begun in Strawberry.

“Arthur!” called a voice behind him.

Arthur turned around to see John Marston running towards him. Arthur pretended not to hear him as he saddled Bucephalus.

“Arthur..” John called again, this time quietly. “Where are you going?”

“I have something to take care of.” Arthur answered gruffly, not turning to look at him. “I’ll be back in a few days time.”

“Is that something named “Sophie”?” John teased, imitating a woman’s fainting spell.

Arthur quickly grabbed John by his throat, his large hand forged steel in it’s grip. John gasped, trying desperately to break Arthur’s grasp.

“Where did you hear that name?” Arthur growled, his eyes flashing fire as he tightened his grip.

John’s fist made contact with Arthur’s jaw, causing Arthur to loosen his fist. The punch didn’t hurt, but took him by surprise enough to let go. 

“Calm down, Arthur, I was only joking..” John coughed, trying to regain his breath.

“Where did you hear that name?” Arthur asked again, his eyes spelling death as his hand hovered over his revolver.

“I heard you talking in your sleep…you called out that name.” John replied, his breathing normalizing. “No idea who that is.”

Arthur blushed slightly, turning his head to hide it.

“How many know?” Arthur replied, as he stocked his horse.

“Just Charles and me. Charles thought he saw you…dressing for an evening out.” John straightened his shirt collar.

Arthur waived his hand to cut him off. “Don’t go spreadin’ that around. I’m…trying to avoid complicatin’ this.”

John raised an eyebrow. “She….doesn’t know about your…?”

Arthur shook his head. “She doesn’t know.”

“Are you going to tell her?” John asked, perplexed.

“I…” Arthur stammered. “I..don’t know.”

John nodded, understanding.

Arthur heaved a heavy sigh. “When I’m with her…” He trailed off, looking towards a star spattered sky. “I ...wish I were a better man. If she found out who I really was…” Arthur’s voice trailed off. “I don’t know how she’ll react.”

John looked to Arthur, taken aback by what he said. John had never seen Arthur ever speak of a woman this way, not even Mary.

Arthur’s eyes softened as he looked down at the ground. He had never felt more vulnerable in his life, but he trusted John enough.

“I have to go.” He said, with finality.

John nodded, thinking carefully about what Arthur had just said.

Turning towards the camp, he saw the shadowy form of Abigail tucking Jack to bed through the tent fabric. John looked towards Arthur as he rode away, then back to the tent at the woman he cared for. Walking towards it, he stopped short before the entrance.

"Hey Abigail, it's..John. Can we...can we talk?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Critiques? All welcome!
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	7. The Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur returns to Strawberry to see Sophie, his heart full of hope. 
> 
> Little does he know that danger follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in the delay of getting this posted. I argued with myself over where I wanted this story to go, and ultimately, went with this one. I hope you all enjoy where Arthur and Sophie will go from here.

Sophie sat at the dinner table in the flat she shared with her father. By the dim, warm light of the oil lamp she looked at the telegram she received earlier that day, it’s edge crumpled and torn from her unceremonious attempts to throw it out. 

Every time she tried throwing it away in the wastebasket, she always ended up picking it out again and uncrumpling it. 

She sighed sadly. 

The sun had already set, and the blue darkness of night had overtaken the sky. The moon shone full through the back window, it’s cold beams of ethereal light creating a spotlight, awaiting it’s lone star to step into the fray. 

Sophie got up from the table, adjusting her powder blue robe that covered her white nightgown and went to stand by the window, looking out at the illuminated forest and hills, evergreens covered in a dusting of confectioner’s sugar, remnants of the earlier snowfall. 

She looked up at the moon and starless sky, wondering if it was too late to ride to Riggs Station. 

_ No, it’s too late, _ she thought, her chest falling in defeat. Her head fell, familiar tears forming at the corners of her doe shaped eyes. As tears fell down her cheeks, she looked back at the telegram. 

A lone tear fell onto the telegram, darkening the area where it landed. Her mind was trying to fathom why tears were falling...and why her heart was breaking. 

Just as she was about to break down into sobs, she heard a loud rapping coming from downstairs. 

Sniffling, she shoved the telegram into her pocket, grabbed the oil lamp, and slowly crept down the spiral wooden stairs to the bakery below. 

Carefully looking over the edge of the back wall of the bakery, she saw a shadowy figure standing behind the frosted glass. 

_ Who could that be _ , she thought. _ We closed hours ago. _

Fear began to creep into her mind, she placed the oil lamp down on the stairs, before running into the back kitchen to grab a butcher’s knife. 

Eyes wide and knife held aloft, she walked across the tile floor, carefully avoiding making a sound as her slippered feet slinked towards the door. 

She tilted her head and squinted, somehow the form in the glass looked oddly familiar. 

“Who...who is it?” she all but stuttered, still holding the knife aloft. She knew she should’ve awoken her father for this, but he was fast asleep upstairs.

“It’s...it’s me, Arthur.” came the grumbling voice she longed to hear. 

Sophie’s body jolted to attention, her heart jumped into her throat, excitement coursing through her at the sound of his voice. She immediately squeezed her eyes shut, somewhat annoyed at herself for reacting so. 

_ Merde.. _She thought to herself, an unwilling smile tugging at her lips, but she refused to acquiesce. Putting the knife down, she opened the door to find a disheveled Arthur standing tall on the stoop. A five o’clock shadow matting his face, his windswept brown hair falling around his handsome face, and his blue eyes looking at her expectantly. 

He looked like he was out riding for a while as the corners of his blue coat were frosted from the long journey. 

“Arthur..” she whispered, dropping the knife with a clunk at her feet as she felt her breath quicken. 

Arthur’s eyes went to the knife at her feet and he chuckled lowly at her naivety. Sophie’s dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You really were gonna cut me, girl?” Arthur asked, giving her a stare that made her body burn shamefully. 

Sophie however, bent down quickly to pick up the knife and held it tightly. “Don’t make me regret not doing so.” she retorted before walking away, leaving the door open. 

Arthur smirked at her, much to her continued annoyance. He let himself in following her into the bakery before shutting the door behind him. 

“I don’t recall inviting you in.” Sophie quipped as she put the knife down on the glass display case, before going to pick up the oil lamp from the bottom of the stairs. 

“You didn’t tell me to go away neither...” Arthur answered in a hushed whisper as he walked slowly towards her. He met her eyes, and he quickly was rendered breathless. 

Sophie always managed to leave him in awe. Her dark curls out of her usual updo, they fell, cascading gracefully down her back, her full lips soft in the firelight of the lamp.

_ God, she’s beautiful _. Arthur thought to himself as his eyes wandered over the young woman in front of him. 

Sophie averted her eyes, feeling his gaze upon her, her hands suddenly unsteady as she held the lamp. 

Arthur felt bold enough to take a step towards her and gently remove the oil lamp from her trembling hands, placing it next to the knife on the display case. 

The bakery was entirely empty, with narry a soul walking in the street outside. Arthur tenderly reached to touch her face, slowly turning her chin back to him. 

Sophie looked up into the ocean coloured eyes she desperately longed to see again. Tears fell out of the corner of her eyes as she blinked, trying to hold them back. Arthur noticed her chest rising and falling quickly through the thin fabric of her nightgown. 

_ Stop now. _ Arthur’s mind warned him. _ This woman is dangerous. _

Swept up in the feelings that ran wildly through his body, Arthur brought his face closer to hers. Sophie closed her eyes in expectation of a kiss, feeling his warm breath close to her face. His lips ghosting over hers, she whimpered slightly at the lack of touch. 

Arthur felt his heart leaping through his chest as his other hand grabbed her waist and pulled her into a kiss. Sophie’s eyes shot open at the suddenness of contact before closing them again, wrapping her arms around his neck.

It was Arthur’s turn to be surprised as Sophie kissed him back, small moans emanating from her as she pressed her warm body against him. 

Arthur’s right hand reached into the waves of her hair, gathering it in his fist as he deepened his kiss, his restraint slowly dissipating as he pushed her against the wall, pressing into her soft curves with reckless abandon, nudging her legs open with his knee.

He felt Sophie’s arms push against his chest and he pulled away, afraid he hurt her when suddenly, she slapped him hard against his cheek. 

Arthur’s face turned to the right with the force of the blow, inwardly amused at how remarkably strong she was before turning back to face her. The look he gave her made Sophie’s eyes widen in fear, as if she struck a mountain lion. 

“I guess I should be scared of you..” Arthur growled as he forced her against the wall again, his hands gripping her waist and lower back tightly. “You fiery little thing...” he whispered into her ear as he nipped at the soft skin of her neck, causing a chill of excitement to run down her spine. 

“That’s for leaving me..” Sophie murmured, her lips raw from his earlier attack. Her breathing now languid and slower, she managed to regain her initial feelings of fury and hurt, right before losing them again at the touch of his lips on her neck.

_ What’s wrong with me _, she thought to herself, as Arthur ran his lips across her jugular. She was overwhelmed by this feeling unknown to her, but it made her completely lose her sense of reason. 

The feeling made her think the most scandalous of thoughts, like begging him to take her, right there on the floor like an animal, to feel his body crush her and claim her, finally letting desire consume them both. She knew in that moment, she wanted no one else.

_ It was always him. _

Arthur felt a pang of guilt at her words, pulling away briefly. Nudging her chin with his fingers to bring her eyes back to him, he offered her a kind smile. 

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out. “I’ll never leave you again…” before taking her lips again. He moaned softly at the closeness of her body, her full breasts pressed against chest as he leaned into her hair, pulling her close.

Outside, the same pair of vengeful eyes that watched Sophie at the station earlier, looked on in jealousy at the two lovers in the window before turning his horse. In his hand, a fire bottle waited patiently for a spark. 

Sophie pushed Arthur away briefly to catch her breath. “I thought...you wanted to meet me at Rigg’s Station?” she managed to relay, breathless in Arthur’s arms. 

Arthur frowned, gazing at her bewildered. “Why?”

“Your telegram...it said to meet you at the station.” Sophie murmured softly, still leaning forward to receive another kiss. 

Arthur’s eyes immediately widened in horror and panic. 

“What telegram?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and critiques are welcome. Thank you for reading! :)


	8. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble abounds for Sophie and the bakery. Will Arthur be able to save them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was perhaps the hardest chapter I've had to write so far. But thank you for sticking with me through it, dear readers.

In an instant, time slowed. 

Arthur could hear his heart beat thundering in his ears, before catching a glimpse of something being thrown through the front window. 

The crash of broken glass fractured the silence of the snowy night, shards of the front bakery window fragmenting and flying in a all directions as a fire bottle slammed through. Within seconds, the bottle spilled it’s volatile innards, spread it’s flame with it. 

Sophie screamed as Arthur immediately pushed her behind him to protect her from the hail of bullets that began careening through the massive hole where the fire bottle entered. 

Arthur took cover behind one of the display cases. He saw Sophie kneeling behind the stairs, her small hands covering her ears, her eyes shut tightly and her mouth open. He knew she was screaming, but in that instant, he couldn’t hear anything but the sound of bullets, and the crackle of flames. 

Outside, horses neighed as the bakery’s assailants yeehawed and cheered at their handiwork. Arthur’s blood began boiling, and his vision began to tunnel. 

Reaching for his sawed off shot gun, he pulled Sophie behind the wall into the stairwell, grabbing her by her shoulders. 

“Sophie!” Arthur yelled, shaking her slightly. “Go get your father, and get out the back door, I’ll take out those bastards out there!” 

Sophie nodded helplessly, tears streaming down her face as her eyes watch the flames climb the walls. Sophie couldn’t bear it, all those months of hard work and toil with her father, now being devoured by slowly by the breath of dragons. 

Arthur could sense her weakening resolve, her fear, and her anger. “Sophie, darlin’..” he soothed, wrapping his arms around her to prevent the bullets from touching her. “Go get your father..”

Sophie nodded, this time more affirmatively, as she gathered her nightgown and ran up the stairs yelling at her father to wake up. 

“Sophie..._ qu’est-ce que ce passe _!?” Louis asked groggily before seeing the plume of black smoke pilfer through the door of the flat. 

“Papa, we must go! Now! We’re under attack!” Sophie screamed, grabbing her father and pulling him out of bed. 

“Under attack!? _Comment?_ How!?” Louis quickly jumped to his feet to grab his suitcase. As quickly as they could, they gathered what they could carry and ran down the spiral staircase. 

The fire had worsened, the entire front end of the store engulfed in a hellish landscape of fire and brimstone. Sophie and her father coughed from the smoke as they ran through the kitchen and out the back way. 

The awaiting barrel of a revolver met them outside.

“Well looky what we have here...” mocked the familiar voice of the masked man before he punched Louis in the temple. Louis fell into a snowbank, blood running from his head. 

“PAPA!” Sophie screamed in horror, as she ran towards him, her voice hoarse from yelling. The assailant grabbed her waist and pulled her away, as she kicked and screamed. 

  
“Yer not getting away so easy..” he grunted into her ear, as he forced her against the wooden wall of the store. Sophie punched him as hard as she could before he backhanded her, causing her head to swim from the blow. 

Sophie’s eyes began to feel heavy as she felt him tugging at her clothes. In a split second, she felt a gush of warm liquid hit her face, and the assailant fall to the ground. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw the blurred form of Arthur standing 10 feet away, smoke rising from the barrel of his gun, and the look on his face that would’ve made armies cower in his wrath. 

Arthur ran to Sophie, his blue eyes softening in concern. “Sophie..Sophie, answer me!” he bellowed, holding her chin in his hands so she could look at him. 

“Did he hurt you?” Arthur pressed, now concerned Sophie would faint. Lifting her in his arms like a ragdoll, he quickly loaded her limp body into the bakery wagon. Arthur turned to shoot another assailant dead before going to rouse Louis. 

“Mr. Belfort!” Arthur nudged his face with his hand, “Mr. Belfort, we have to go. Can you shoot a gun?”

Louis shook his head to rouse himself. “Of course. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine..” Louis blustered, grabbing some snow for his head. 

Arthur smirked at Louis’s resolve before handing him a revolver as Louis climbed into the driver’s seat of the wagon. 

Arthur turned to see the lifeless body of the stranger who had accosted Sophie. A dark heat coursed through Arthur’s body, jealousy and possessiveness gripping him. He bent down to pull the bandana off the dead man’s face. 

Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. 

It was Donovan O’Reilly, the boy who worked at the bakery, the same boy who reported him to the Sheriff the first day he went to see Sophie. 

Arthur felt a scowl overtake his features, disgust settling in at the realization. 

_ She trusts the wrong people. _

Louis looked at Arthur, his face also in shock at seeing the soulless body of Donovan lying in his own blood against the virgin snow. 

“I….I…” Louis stammered, anger gripping his face. “I would have NEVER hired him si j’ai connu...”

Arthur waved at Louis quickly, silencing him. “We have to go.” he stated plainly. “I’ll shoot them off our tail if you drive the wagon.”

Louis nodded in affirmation before whipping the reigns, Phillippe and Beau took off with a start, the wagon slowly clamouring through the thick snow as they took the only way out of Strawberry. 

Arthur watched in silent sadness as Sophie’s bakery burned as a beacon against the darkness. Deep down, he knew that place was too good for Strawberry. The class and sophistication of civilization proved too much for the backwoods element that attacked that night. 

He looked down at Sophie, still passed out in shock in the back of the wagon. Blood speckled her beautiful face, soiling the pristine white of her nightgown.

Seeing her small body shiver against the chill of the wind, and realizing she was not wearing a coat, he took of his own coat and placed it carefully on her, his knuckles brushing her cheek as a lover would. 

Arthur’s heart felt as though it was caught in a vice as he looked at her. 

“Sophie..” he whispered, hoping she’d wake up. “Sophie...darlin’...we’re okay. Everything’s okay” his voice cracked as he spoke. He cleared his throat before turning his eyes back to the road behind them. 

Louis turned his head slightly, watching Arthur rubs his daughter’s hands in his, trying to warm them. He smiled to himself, somewhat comforted in Arthur’s presence, as he bid the horses to gallop faster. 

They were not out of the woods yet, some of the assassins who saw them escape pursued on horseback, now firing at the fleeing wagon. 

“Mr. Belfort, get ready!” Arthur yelled as he stood at the end of the wagon’s tail, cocking both his revolvers. A couple of shots took out one of them, the other dodged Arthur’s aim before firing one bullet. 

A bullet that went straight for Louis’ left shoulder. Louis let out a cry at the impact before Sophie’s eyes shot straight open. 

“Papa!” she screamed, immediately getting up to go to her father. 

“You okay back there!?” Arthur yelled again as he shot the rider dead off his horse. He ran to Louis and touched his back, Arthur’s hand sensing the warmth of his blood through his coat. 

_ This is not good. _

“_ Je suis...d’accord.. _” Louis grunted through the pain, coughing slightly. “Is that all of them?” 

“Should be. Take a left up the road, there’s an abandoned cabin we can take shelter in.” Arthur motioned with his gloved hand. 

“He needs a doctor!” Sophie yelled. “He won’t last like this!”

“I’m fine, Sophie..” her father comforted her, his breathing more ragged. “Let’s just go..”

Sophie felt tears forming against at the corners of her eyes. Arthur sighed before turning his face away and grabbing the reins from her father. 

“Get in the back, you’ve done enough fer tonight..” Arthur assured Louis, who simply nodded, before shakily handing the reins over. Sophie gently helped her father sit in the back of the wagon, her resolve settling back. 

She tore the hem of her nightgown off to form makeshift gauze to put pressure on her father’s wound. Her father nodded in thanks as Sophie snuggled up to him, her eyes bloodshot from crying. She sobbed silently into his coat. 

Arthur willed his emotions to harden as he drove the wagon into the woods to the cabin, each of Sophie’s sobs felt like a knife stabbing his heart.

Once inside, Arthur unloaded Louis into one of the cots in the cabin, Sophie following close behind. As Arthur built a fire, he saw Sophie immediately roll up her sleeves to help her father remove his coat. 

He watched her as she scour the shelves, finding a bottle of 80 proof alcohol, and some rags that she used to clean her father’s wound. It appears the bullet had gone clean through Louis’ left shoulder blade. Blood oozed but did not spurt as Sophie quickly dressed his wound and covered her father with a ragged comforter. Holding his hand, Sophie gazed at her father until he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

Sophie watched her father’s chest move up and down, as she felt her own heart begin to calm down. She turned and saw Arthur sitting by the hearth, warming himself at the newly started fire. He had gotten another coat from his horse while they were settling in.

Sophie walked towards him carefully and leaned against the mantle, the warmth of the fire dancing across her face, Arthur looked at her and felt himself grow weak. Even spattered with blood and her nightgown torn, she was still a vision. It took all Arthur had not to start at her bare legs, now visible due to the shortened hem of her nightgown.

Sophie took off his coat to give it back before Arthur got up and put it back on her. 

“It suits you more now..” He whispered in her ear, stealing a moment to kiss her under her earlobe. “Don’t want you freezin’ to death..” 

To his surprise, he felt Sophie’s arms wrap around him as she rested her head on his chest. Her breathing slow, she looked up into his eyes. Arthur took this moment to return her embrace, a hand resting behind her neck. 

“Thank you…” she answered in a hushed tone, her voice gravelly from screaming. 

“How is he?” Arthur inquired, his eyes not leaving hers. 

“I...I don’t know..” Sophie answered, her voice cracking and she wiped a tear with her hand. “He needs a doctor…I…” her voice trailed off, rising an octave as she felt another fit of sobs shake her chest. 

“We’ll go to a doctor in Valentine first thing...” Arthur reassured her as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. He stroked her midnight coloured hair as her body quivered from a fresh onslaught of cries. The reality was setting in now. 

The bakery was gone. Everything Sophie had built was gone.

Arthur felt guilt grip his heart. _ Was this because of me? _

When Sophie’s sobs subsided, he felt her head become heavier against his chest. Arthur sat down on a wooden chair, pulling Sophie onto his lap as he heard her breathing stabilize. His arms still around her, he pressed her closer to him, as if it were the last time. 

”Who are you…?” Sophie murmured huskily before she fell into the forgiving arms of sleep.

Arthur’s mind immediately remembered earlier in the evening, her lips against his, kissing him with the same wanton abandon as he did her. He pushed those thoughts out of his consciousness quickly before they aroused him. Instead he willed his mind to think of the events that transpired after.

So many questions flooded his mind. 

_ Who were those men? Why did they target the bakery? _

_ Why did they want to kill Sophie and her father? _

**** 

Arthur couldn’t sleep that night as he stood guard over Sophie. He placed her on another cot after she’d fallen asleep in his arms. 

“_Monsieur Morgan_...” came Louis’ voice in the night. Arthur walked towards his cot, kneeling down to Louis’ level. 

“Yes, Mr. Belfort?” Arthur asked, concerned. “You feelin’ alright?”

“I want you to promise me something..” Louis began, a fit of coughs careening out of his mouth. “If I do not make it through the night…”

“Yer gonna be jus’ fine..” Arthur offered, trying to be positive. 

Louis raised his hand to stop Arthur from talking. “If I do not make it...please take care of my daughter.” Louis stated, nodding. “Give her the life I wish I could have provided her..before ...all this..” he trailed off in his French accent. 

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I don’t think you know what yer sayin’..”

“I do…” Louis countered, his annoyance now clear. “And don’t you dare tell me she means nothing to you..”

Arthur’s eyes closed briefly. He couldn’t deny it, and that was what worried him. 

“I’m...not a good man, Mr. Belfort.” Arthur started, his heart sinking. “Sophie don’t need a man like me…”

“I wasn’t worthy of her mother either…” Louis coughed, heaving breaths. “Promise me that Sophie has you to walk with her through this life, for I know she loves you.”

Arthur hung his head shamefully before looking back at the sleeping form of the woman across the cabin. 

“She cried every night you were gone” Louis confessed, his own eyes glazing over. “She thought I did not know…”

Arthur couldn’t believe what he heard. 

“I’ll protect her with my life..” Arthur told Louis, nodding, hoping that would be enough. 

“Promise me!” Louis yelled, grabbing Arthur’s shirt cuff roughly.

“I...promise.” Arthur breathed, feeling defeated and shaken. Tapping Louis’s arm comfortingly, he got up to resume his post. “Not that it matters, yer gonna be alright..” he quickly added.

Louis smiled tiredly, appreciating Arthur’s words of encouragement. 

“_ Bien… _” he whispered before closing his eyes again. "Tell her I love her with all my heart.."

Arthur’s eyes widened at the realization of what he had said. Running his fingers through his hair, he gazed back at Sophie.

_ What have I done? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and prompts welcome. Your feedback matters to me.<3


	9. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't as they seem as Arthur slips further into his own mind, discovering Sophie means more to him than he previously realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I was on a writing streak. 
> 
> Enjoy some romance on the house.

Sophie finished bathing and quickly dried off before slipping a simple blue blouse and black full skirt. The fabric was rough against her skin, and a part of her missed having her regular clothes. Her hair still damp from the bath, she opened the door to find Arthur standing there, already cleaned up, wearing a clean white shirt, and brown trousers. Sophie swallowed as she felt her pulse quicken at the sight of him. 

“I’m done.” she muttered curtly, averting her eyes and walking quickly in front of him. 

Arthur watched her as she walked away from him. He knew she was angry, and he couldn’t blame her. But he wasn’t going to let her talk to him like that. 

Quickly walking behind her, he was almost upon her when she closed the door of her room right before he could reach her. 

“Sophie, open this door.” Arthur warned, now irritated. 

“No.” Sophie responded in monotone. 

“Sophie, open this door, or…” Arthur started. 

“Or...what?” Sophie finished angrily, opening the door and locking eyes with him. 

Arthur could see her fury was coming forth. Sophie’s eyes widened as Arthur let himself in and closed the door behind him. 

“What do you want, Arthur?” Sophie felt a blush climb up her cheeks, her body already responding to his intense gaze. 

“Hopin’ to talk..” Arthur offered, holding out his hand as a gesture of good will. 

“I don’t want to talk..” Sophie's voice shook as she spoke. “I want to know what happened. Why is my bakery gone? Who were those people, and why did they attack us?”

“I wish I could tell ya..” Arthur responded sadly, retrieving his hand when she wouldn’t take it. 

“Then there’s nothing to talk about.” Sophie turned her back to him, looking out the window of the hotel. Both of them could hear the moans and squeaking of bed frames on wooden floors through the paper-thin walls of the hotel. Clearly, the place was one of disrepute. 

“Then what do you want?” Arthur asked, exasperated by her response. 

“I want my old life back. I want my father to be well…” Sophie closed her eyes, feeling the hot sting of tears. “Why...why did you help us back there?”

It was Arthur’s turn to be stunned, as he wasn’t expecting that. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you save us?” Sophie turned her dark eyes back to Arthur, now standing closer to her than she realized. “Why did you come back that night?”

Arthur was frozen in place, unsure of how to answer. “Sophie..” he whispered, half in warning.

“Who are you?” Sophie asked, her eyes not leaving his. 

“You didn’t seem to care that night..” Arthur changed the subject, feeling a smirk appear at the corner of his mouth before taking another step towards her and trapping her at the window. 

He saw her cheeks burn in embarrassment at the memory before turning her eyes away again. Arthur leaned his face to her neck and breathed, taking in her scent before resting his hands on her waist.

“I know yer hurt, darlin’..” he whispered into her hair, drawing her into his warm embrace. Sophie sighed exhausted, resting her head on his shoulder. Arthur’s heart grew, treasuring this moment. Everything seemed to slip away, the bakery, the gang, the whole world. 

All that was there was just him and Sophie. And oddly, Arthur felt something he never felt in his life. 

Completeness. 

“I just… feel such rage.” Sophie spoke into his chest, her hand clenching the fabric of his white french linen shirt.

“And it’s okay to..” Arthur murmured, placing a kiss on her head, tightening his hold on her. Her body now melded to his, he felt himself becoming aroused.

_ No. Not now. _

To his surprise, Sophie lifted her head and pulled his down for a kiss. Arthur’s eyes shot wide open as he pulled her away, her eyes still closed. 

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, clearly shocked. 

“Living in dreams...dreams that will drive me mad.” Sophie lips trembled slightly, her face contorted in confusion.

Arthur remembered her father’s words.

“Do you...love me, Sophie?” Arthur asked incredulously, his heart now racing. 

Sophie tried to walk away but Arthur’s bulky arms held her where she stood, his steely gaze not allowing her a place to hide. 

She licked her lips and sighed. “I don’t know you.”

“Do you love me, Sophie?” he questioned again, this time placing a hand on her cheek, tenderly holding her face. 

Sophie leaned into his touch. “I can’t describe how I feel when I’m with you.” she sighed, her eyes opening slightly as she peered at him through her dark, full lashes. “All I know is that I’m missing something when you’re gone.” Tears began falling from her eyes.

Arthur breathed deeply, his heart beating so hard it would break open his chest. “Marry me, Miss Sophie..”

“What?” Sophie looked up, her dark amber eyes glazed over. 

“I thought I could live the rest of my life without ever asking this to anyone. But from the day I saw you..” he leaned forward, placing small kisses on her neck and eliciting a small moan from her. “I wanted you. I...needed you.”

His lips found their way back to hers, slowly kissing her as he pulled her towards the bed, the bedspread invitingly turned open. 

“Marry me, Sophie de Belfort..” Arthur pleaded huskily, pulling her to sit straddling his lap, his eyes closed at feeling her warmth, the sounds emanating from her lips driving him over the edge. 

“Yes..” she breathed, her eyes on the ceiling as she moved her hips slightly. Arthur felt excitement run through his body, feeling pleasure how close he was to her center.

“Yes, what?” Arthur teased, a wicked spark now twinkling in his blue eyes as he gripped her hips.

“Yes, I will marry you..” she moaned, her eyes closing in pleasure as Arthur’s hands untied her skirt. 

_ Yes I will marry you. _

_ Yes…_

Sophie’s moans reverberated through Arthur’s mind until he awoke with a start, the hotel room in complete darkness. His eyes darted around the room before he remembered. 

Valentine. 

Sophie was in the adjoining room, doting on her father, who had been released from the doctor's care earlier that afternoon. 

Arthur looked down at the bulge in his trousers, noticing the raging, painful erection he had from his earlier dream. 

He shook his head in disgust at himself as he grunted in pain.

_ What’s gotten over you? Marrying her? Are you crazy? _

And yet, he wasn’t as displeased with the idea as he should have been. 

"Arthur?" came Sophie's voice from the other room. Arthur immediately sat up and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Yeah?" Arthur responded as he tried to breathe, attempting to sound normal. 

Sophie opened the door slightly and poked her head in. Her dark curls were gathered into a half updo that fell behind her back, her eyes frozen in concern. "Everything okay? I thought I heard you talking to someone."

"No, I'm fine." Arthur nodded before waving her away, averting his gaze from her. 

"Okay.." she whispered, confusion played upon her beautiful face, closing the door behind her.

A few moments of silence passed before Arthur got up from his bed and slipped on his boots.

“I’m losin’ my damn mind..” he muttered to himself, before quickly donning his green duster coat and heading out the door. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, critiques? Your feedback is always welcome. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always.


	10. Someone to Watch Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie discovers not all is as it seems, and that there may be more forces at play after the bakery fire. 
> 
> Arthur begins to learn more about Sophie, and that she is not as demure as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> I actually enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope that you, my faithful readers, also will enjoy reading.
> 
> As I mentioned before, I want this to be the love story Arthur Morgan deserved, with all the twists, turns, and adventure the world of Red Dead Redemption II can provide. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support and comments. Keep'em coming! It keeps me motivated to update chapters. :)

_ Mr. Belfort made it through that fateful night, much to my relief. Made it into Valentine alright, he’s now under the doctor’s care. They patched him up and he should be good in a few days. _

_ Now...I am stuck with a very stubborn, very angry Sophie. She hasn’t been rude or unpleasant, but she hasn’t spoken much in the last few days, except to say ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘please’, and ‘thank you’. Most days, there’s an edge in her voice, and I see rage and hurt brewin’ right under those pretty eyes of hers. _

_ Sophie wants answers for what happened that night, and I wish I could give them to her, if I wasn’t wondering myself. So far, Valentine doesn’t seem to know what happened over in Strawberry. We’ll have to lay low in town until we find out more. _

****

Sophie grabbed her skirts, making a run back to the hotel as quickly as her feet would carry her, a copy of that morning’s newspaper clutched in her gloved hands. 

Running up the stairs of the hotel, she knocked loudly on Arthur’s door. 

“Arthur! Arthur, I need you to see something! Please open the door!” Sophie begged, her eyes frantically reading the paper. 

“Yeah?” rumbled Arthur as he opened the door. 

Sophie’s eyes widened as she saw his shirt was open as he was buttoning, a small matting of hair and a multitude of scars covered his torso.

Swallowing and averting her eyes, Sophie blushed deeply. “You didn’t tell me you were indecent.”

Arthur scoffed as he grabbed her arm and pulled her gently into his room. Closing the door, he resumed buttoning his shirt. 

“What is it you want to show me?” Arthur asked calmly. 

Sophie handed him the paper. “Read it.”

Arthur left the top couple of buttons open to receive the paper, his blue eyes scanning it. A story about a cattle auction, a new picture show in town…

...And then he saw it. 

The story about the bakery in Strawberry. 

**TRAGEDY IN STRAWBERRY**

**Less than a year since it’s grand opening, Boulangerie Impériale, the most recent addition to Strawberry’s tourist scene, has been destroyed by fire. The cause of the fire is unknown, but the bodies of Louis and Sophie de Belfort, the bakery’s father-and-daughter proprietors, were among those found in the debris. The body of an unknown male was also discovered. While local police are investigating, the sheriff believes it to be a terrible accident. **

Arthur’s frown deepened as he read the last few lines.

“They...found _your _bodies?” Arthur asked incredulously, unable to fathom what he just read. 

“They...think we’re dead.” Sophie gasped, raising a small hand to her mouth in shock. 

“Who’s the third body?” Arthur asked, as he kept reading. 

“They didn’t say.” Sophie said as she took a seat on the velvet chair next to the full length mirror. 

Arthur kept reading aloud. 

**The third victim’s remains were burned beyond recognition, but authorities believe he was a white male in his late 30’s.**

Arthur’s eyes froze on the description. 

His eyes left the page to rest upon Sophie, who looked lost in her own thoughts. 

“_ C’est curieux _” Sophie concluded. “The fire was not an accident..those brutes attacked us!”

“Weren’t no accident.” Arthur folded the paper as he looked out the window. Closing his eyes, memories of that night flashed before his eyes. Sophie’s screaming, the flames climbing the turquoise walls of the bakery. 

A part of him smiled inwardly remembering what it looked like before the fire. He had such fond memories there with her, joking and talking. Arthur stole a glance at her and remembered how she sounded when she laughed. 

He really missed that, even if he would never admit it.

Sophie’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “We have to clear this up, this is a terrible mistake.”

“Ain’t no mistake..” Arthur voice deepened, his baritone more pronounced. “Someone had it out for you that night. The man who attacked you, was that scrawny punk who worked your front.”

“Donovan!?” Sophie breathed, the image of the man who backhanded her coming into full view again. The blow she received that night made her memory of the attack hazy. 

“Yeah, that pissant..” Arthur felt his blood boiling again, the thought of that teenager pawing Sophie made Arthur's hands itch for his throat. “If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him again.”

“You...killed him?” Sophie gazed up at Arthur from the chair, awe and a familiar fear in her eyes. Every time Arthur looked into those eyes he hated seeing it. That fear. It made him feel like a monster.

_ Because you are a monster. _

“Yes, I did.” Arthur stated plainly, his voice devoid of emotion, trying desperately to will the negativity from his thoughts.

Sophie didn’t respond, but gently took the paper back, reading further. 

“How can the sheriff say it was an accident? We need to tell the authorities that..” Sophie stopped, Arthur’s gaze now terrifying. 

“We're not tellin’ anyone, let alone any lawmen..” Arthur growled as he resumed dressing, turning away from her. 

“ 'We'?..” Sophie’s voice edged, a fury that she held back now coming forth. 

“Yes..” Arthur’s steely gaze met hers. “ ‘We’, as in ‘us’..”

Sophie’s chest fell dejectedly. “Since when did I go from my father’s daughter to..” she halted, fire flashing her eyes. “..to your personal whore?”

Arthur pointed a finger at her. “Watch your mouth, girl..” 

“That’s what I’ve been to you, _ n’est-ce pas _?” Sophie got up. She was not short, but she still had to look up to meet Arthur’s eyes. “Nothing more than a..”

Arthur took a step towards her, feeling heat run through his veins at her words. 

“I didn’t have to come back that night..” Arthur’s voice again. “I didn’t have to save you..”

“Then why did you?” Sophie met his gaze, not surrendering. “You could’ve left us...left me to die”

Sophie saw something flash in Arthur’s blue eyes behind the anger, an unidentifiable emotion that passed briefly. 

They both stood in silence, neither one relenting. Arthur put on his coat before responding. 

“You have a death wish, you can do what you want.” he spat, inwardly hurt. 

Sophie lowered her eyes, her hands wringing the paper in her hands. 

Arthur felt like he couldn’t breathe, as his heart swelled at her trembling. 

_ Yer a damn fool. _

“Thank you...for saving me. And my father.” Sophie whispered, her voice shaking. She walked up to Arthur and placed a small kiss on his cheek, surprising him. Then just as swiftly, she walked out of his room, her boots clicking as she walked away. 

“Sophie, wait!” Arthur called as he followed her, but he was too late. She walked back into her room and shut the door. 

“Goddamn it..” Arthur muttered under his breath, as he eyed the doorknob. He wondered if he should enter, but ultimately decided against it. He heard scurrying on the other side, followed by the shouting of words he didn’t understand. 

***

The next day, Arthur walked out of the gunsmith to find Sophie leaving the hotel. She looked different today, her dark curls tied behind her head in a ponytail, wearing brown trousers, a velvet blue corset that accentuated her small waist, and a white peasant’s blouse under a buckskin coat.

Arthur didn’t have a chance to smile before he realized what she was doing. She was loading up the wagon with supplies, as if leaving. Walking quickly up to the wagon, he made sure to stand in her way as she was about to place another crate in the back. 

“Goin’ somewhere?” Arthur confronted her, enjoying her annoyance as she tried to move around him. 

“Do not try to stop me.” Sophie rebuked, not making eye contact. 

Arthur placed his hands on the crate to force her to stop moving. Once he caught her eyes, he held them with an intensity that made Sophie’s body react familiarly. 

She cursed at herself, hating how this one insufferable man affected her so. 

“If you _must_ know, I’m going to get my father to a boarding house outside of town. He’ll be safe there.” Sophie relented, exhausted at his games. 

Arthur knew this wasn’t the whole truth as he held the crate in place, not letting her leave. 

“..and then I’m going back to Strawberry.” She finished, her shoulders falling. 

“Sophie…” Arthur sighed, now removing the crate from her arms and placing it on the wagon. “Yer goin’ all by yourself?”

“I just want to know the truth, Arthur..” her voice now pleading. “They….they took everything from us.”

Arthur felt breathless as he watched her lips tremble, and had to stop himself before embracing her.

“No, not everything..” Arthur lowered his eyes sadly as he walked away. Sophie noticed the change in his voice as he spoke, and reached for his hand.

“Come with me...” Sophie blurted out before she could stop herself. “Are you not tired of being beaten? Do you not have questions about that night?”

“No..” Arthur responded dully, attempting desperately to pull himself from the abyss of his own mind, the touch of her hand warm against his skin. “I don’t.”

Sophie could feel a heaviness set in on her shoulders before he placed a large, calloused hand over hers, adding, “But you ain’t goin’ alone.”

Sophie looked back at him and offered a small smile. Arthur however, didn’t return her happiness, he just looked away from her. 

“Go get yer pa…” Arthur ordered, sternly yet tenderly. 

Without another word, Sophie went to help her father down the stairs and into the wagon. Arthur mounted his horse and looked to Louis. 

“She always like this?” 

“_ Tout le temps _...” Louis chuckled jovially, his eyes looking off into the distance. “Just like her mother.”

Arthur frowned, curiously wondering what had happened to her.

_ You have no time for this. You need to get back to camp. _

Arthur shook his head. In his own mind, he too had questions of what happened that night. Why was he declared dead? Why did the paper lie about the circumstances of the fire? And most importantly: Who sent Sophie the telegram?

_ Just this once. Bein’ dead, I have time. _ Arthur justified to himself, pushing the sensual dream he had of her out of his mind, as if somehow it wasn’t about anything else.

_ Just this once. _

***

And so they set off, riding through the Heartlands on their way back to Strawberry. The snow was beginning to melt, and with it bringing colourful blossoms back to the hills and meadows. 

The trip began in silence, with Arthur not engaging in much conversation except to give directions. Sophie for the most part, returned to her previous quietness, however occasionally, Arthur was sure he caught her smiling a couple of times, most times when she was looking his way. 

Arthur scoffed to himself candidly. He was glad to see her smiling again, not completely hardened by what happened. 

The whole thing didn’t sit right with him. And regardless of what he told her, he was genuinely curious about what really happened that night. 

He really wanted that night to be different. 

_ I should’ve never left her.. _

Guilt washed over him like the tide as he watched her stirring a pot on the campfire. She was insistent that she cooked that night, and he didn’t argue with her. She told him it made her feel normal again, to be making the things she loved. 

Arthur smiled as he doodled in his journal, Sophie’s form slowly appearing on the page. The time spent with her was actually uplifting, he actually found himself humming while out hunting earlier in the day.

It had been so long since a woman was in his life, one that wasn’t one of the camp’s residents. And while he was fond of all of them, it was nice to feel that warmth again. 

“Watcha makin’?” Arthur asked, breaking the silence.

“Try it and you tell me..” Sophie laughed, her first laugh in weeks. Spooning the contents of the pot into a shallow tin bowl, she handed it to Arthur with a slice of bread. Arthur observed it and was rather impressed with the food, the rabbit meat smothered with wild mushrooms and perfectly braised in a sauce fragrant with rosemary. 

“It’s good..real good.” Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise as he ate. “Yer pa was right. You do have a gift.”

Sophie blushed slightly as she took a bite from her own bread chunk. Wincing, she put it down on her plate, chewing begrudgingly. 

“Mine’s better..” she mumbled, her mouth half full. 

Arthur couldn’t stifle the low chuckle that came from his chest at her reaction. 

“Yer really somethin’, y’know that?” He observed as he ate. 

“I have standards.” Sophie stated, her eyes looking down at her food. They ate in comfortable silence, which suited Arthur just fine. 

Once they finished eating, Arthur put his plate down and redirect his gaze back to her. “So...what’s yer plan, princess?”

“Plan?”

“Yes, yer plan when we get to Strawberry.” Arthur pressed, his tone serious as he stared at her from across the fire. 

“Well, I’d like to see what’s left of..my home. Maybe something survived”. Sophie shrugged, a small lilt of sadness in her voice.. 

“Could probably do that at night…” Arthur furrowed his brow in thought. “What else?”

“Confront the sheriff.” 

Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow. “Confront him? With what?”

“The truth...and if that doesn’t work...” Sophie rifled through her bag and pulled out a brand new cattleman’s revolver and pointed it at Arthur. “...threatened him for answers with this.”

“Don’t point that at me!” Arthur immediately got up and disarmed Sophie effortlessly. Looking down at the revolver, he turned to her again. 

“Where did you get this?!” Arthur held up the pistol by it’s chamber, his facial features now shifting to concern. 

“The gunsmith in town.” Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re angry..it’s second hand.”

“Do you know how to use this?” Arthur now sounded exasperated. “Have you ever fired a gun before?”

“What’s to know? Aim barrel, bullet comes out, hits target.” Sophie blushed, slightly embarrassed. “I was going to practice a bit…”

Arthur opened the chamber, and scoffed loudly. “You were going to threaten him with no bullets?”

Sophie turned her head, embarrassment and anger now brewing in the pit of her stomach. A new breath must’ve been breathed into her, because when she turned her gaze back to him, hell’s fury was no match for what flashed behind her irises.

Arthur sighed before trying a different tone. “Since when do you threaten people? That’s not you…”

“How do you know who I can or cannot be, and who are you to dictate to me such things?” Sophie fumed, her accent becoming more pronounced as she quickly tried to retrieve her gun. But Arthur was too fast, immediately moving it out of her reach before grabbing her by her corseted waist and pulling her flush to his abdomen.

His face inches from hers, he took a moment to look deeply into her eyes, seriousness in his gaze. 

“You mean to tell me...that under all this…” Arthur tightened his grip, causing her breath to catch. “....you...the little baker from Strawberry...want to be an outlaw?” The blue of Arthur’s eyes glinted with mirth as he smirked coyly, now entertained at the notion.

Sophie’s hands immediately came up and immediately pushed on his broad chest, but he held her tightly. The more she struggled, his grip became tighter, to his amusement and her annoyance. Sophie all but grunted until she managed to push Arthur away, leaving her breathless.

Arthur chuckled roughly before handing her the gun again. “Yer not an outlaw, princess, and yer not in any shape to threaten anyone.”

“And you are?” Sophie retorted slyly, crossing her arms. 

Arthur’s smile disappeared the moment she said that. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the mention of his lifestyle. 

_ Damn it. _

“Don’t toy with me Arthur..” Sophie placed the gun back in her bag. “I’m not so blind as to not see a man like you...take on a mob of assassins single handedly and come away unscathed.” 

Arthur remained frozen where he stood, his eyes not leaving hers, gauging her reaction. 

Sophie licked her lips before continuing. “I figured you were either a former lawman, or an outlaw. And somehow...I just knew you weren’t the former.” she sighed tiredly.

“So...figurin’ all that out..” Arthur took a step towards her, closing the gap between them. “You still let me in that night…” his voice lowered an octave as he prowled towards her until her back hit the side of the wagon. “..and you still kissed me back.” he breathed into her ear, his large frame close but still not quite near.

Sophie turned her eyes away, feeling shame and embarrassment. Now standing in front of her, he gently nudged her chin with his fingers to meet his eyes again. 

“Do you trust me, Sophie?” Arthur asked, sincerity in his voice. The storming ocean in his eyes began to calm.

Sophie looked up at Arthur, her mouth slightly parted. Her body tingled in anticipation being so close to him. In that moment, she contemplated begging him to touch her, to end this charade between them, but she did not. 

“I do.” she whispered. “I did before. And I do now.”

Arthur breathed deeply before closing his eyes, a great relief filling his being. “That night...you also punched me. I felt that.” he laughed at the memory, his eyes now upon the night sky above. “Yer stronger than you look, we can use that.” He nodded before redirecting back to Sophie. 

“We’ll start tomorrow.” he concluded turning away, leaving Sophie frustrated and bothered against the wagon. 

“Tent’s yers, I’ll take the bag outside…in case someone decides to bother us during the night.” he grunted as he settled in for the night. 

Sophie's eyes narrowed, her nose wincing in sheer, utter irritation. She made her way into the tent and closed the flap. Sitting cross-legged on her sleeping bag, she breathed deeply, trying to contain her discontent. 

Arthur placed his gambler’s hat over his eyes, listening to her. He chuckled to himself at the sounds she made, not remembering the last time he enjoyed toying with someone so much.

The smile remained on Arthur’s handsome face as he dove into slumber underneath the shining glory of the Milky Way, encircling the night sky in it’s heavenly embrace of white, purple, and blue. 

And for the first time in a long time, Arthur actually looked forward to beginning a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! Thanks again for reading!


	11. I Can't Tell You Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, Sophie and Arthur continue the trek towards Strawberry, growing closer with each passing day. 
> 
> But will Arthur finally admit he cares for her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was conceived listening to the Eagles' "I Can't Tell You Why". 
> 
> I had a feeling that if Arthur truly fell in love with someone, he wouldn't be the kind to just confess his love. He seems reserved and brooding in the game, and I wanted to capture that as much as possible.

“Again.” Arthur rolled her eyes, exasperated, as Sophie attempted to fire her revolver. 

Another shot pierced the air with a bang, missing the row of tin cans lined up on a log 20 feet away.

Sophie lowered the gun, angry and exhausted. A hiccup startled her, as she raised her hand to cover her mouth. 

“Again.” Arthur waved his hand, pointing at the cans. 

“_ Ça ne functionne pas _..” Sophie pouted. “I’m not hitting them.”

“And you won’t hit’em if you don’ practice.” Arthur lectured, getting up from his seat to adjust the positioning of her arms. 

Sophie sighed tiredly, walking away before Arthur could touch her. 

“Perhaps this was a mistake..” Sophie sat down on a log, placing the gun beside her, her head in her hands. 

Arthur frowned, wondering if he had been too hard on her. Lifting his hat, he ran a hand through his hair before going to sit next to her. 

“This ain’t somethin’ to get right away..” Arthur offered, trying to be sympathetic, seeing how vulnerable she was. He wanted to place his arms around her, but refrained. 

“One moment I think I can I make those who wronged us pay...the next I’m crying to go home. Only to remember..” Sophie’s voice shook as she spoke. “I don’t have a home anymore.”

Arthur sighed, his lips a thin line at her words. “You got spirit, I’ll give ya that..” he nodded before grabbing her hand to lead it back to the revolver. Getting up, he dragged her back to her original position in front of the cans. 

Standing next to her, he withdrew his own revolver and fired, knocking the can swiftly off the log. 

“See, now you know if can be done.” Arthur stated, turning to her. “If I can do it, you can.”

Sophie smiled at his encouragement, feeling her heart swell. 

“Now, show me your form again.” Arthur instructed, his blue eyes watching her intently. 

Sophie let out a deep breath before raising the revolver with both hands, pointing it at the targets. 

“I know you’re scared and you’re angry..” Arthur whispered as he stood next to her, positioning her arms. “As you’re holding the gun, aim slightly higher than your target. Hold the gun with both hands..” he instructed, holding her hands in his as they aimed the pistol. 

“Breathe..” he murmured as he felt Sophie’s shoulder relax. Sophie felt her body react to the timbre in his voice as she felt heat play on her cheeks. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his chest onto her back. 

“Focus on the target...and nothing else..” Arthur voice rumbled against her. Sophie closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of his hands and his breath on her shoulder.

“Take a deep breath...and on the exhale...fire.”

Sophie did as she was told before pulling the trigger. The bullet zipped out of the barrel, immediately hitting the can. 

Sophie felt elation fill her as she and Arthur lowered the revolver. Arthur let out a deep breath, trying to control himself as the scent of honeyed red roses wafted from her hair.

_ Damn her. _

“Can you do that on your own?” Arthur asked, his eyes kind but concerned. 

“I’ll try..” Sophie breathed, a hiccup breaking her concentration. “I get the hiccups when I’m nervous.”

Arthur was silent for a moment, then he unholstered his knife. 

“I have an idea..” he said as he handed her the blade. “Throw this at the cans”

Sophie holstered her gun, looking at Arthur puzzled. 

“Hey, you were gonna cut me the last time we were alone..” Arthur smirked wickedly, watching Sophie’s face turn beet red. He always found her embarrassment charming. 

Determined, Sophie took the knife and turned back to the targets. Breathing deeply, she exhaled as she threw the knife with all her might, hitting the can squarely in the centre.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and whistled. “Where’d ya learn to do that?” he asked, unbelieving. 

“_ Je ne sais pas.. _” Sophie held a hand to her mouth, surprised by her own accuracy. She ran back to the wagon and retrieved some large steak knives. 

Raising one above her head, Sophie let go, hitting another can. Then another. And another. Until all the cans were on the ground. 

Arthur couldn’t hold back the proud smile he had, watching her succeed. “That’s a rare skill. We gonna have to getcha better knives than those.”

Sophie had the proudest look on her face as she went to retrieve the knives. Arthur re-holstered his knife before finishing. “You still have to learn to fire a gun though.” Arthur took out a cigarette and sat down on the log across from her, bemused by the annoyed look on her face.

“Do it again.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed at Arthur, her grip on the knives tightened. 

“Don’ even think about it.” Arthur chuckled darkly, his hand on his revolver as he pointed towards the cans. “Try again, sweetheart.”

“You wouldn’t.” Sophie uttered, her anger bubbling to the surface. 

“Were you going to cut me that night?” Arthur asked, an eyebrow raised, as if challenging her.

Sophie dark eyes flashed with fire, her fury boiling over as she stomped back towards the cans, still tightly gripping the knives. 

Arthur lit his cigarette, still laughing in personal amusement.

*****

Eventually, and with a lot of practice, Sophie managed to become proficient using the revolver, enough that she wouldn’t develop hiccups every time she tried dislodging a can. But there was no denying it. With knives, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Arthur knew he had to get her better weapons than that rusted out old revolver, and something better than steak knives. 

Watching her intently as she brushed her long dark hair from across the fire, his mind began to dream. 

In his dreams, he imagined waking up next to her, her sleepy smile brighter than the sun peeking in through the curtained windows of their house. 

He imagined a small homestead where they could both live, in the mountains or next to a clean stream. And hell, maybe he’d rebuild that bakery of hers. A woman with her gifts would be bored just being a housewife, and he knew the bakery meant more to her than anything else. 

He shook his head to remove those images. 

He realized something was happening. Something he’d hoped would never happen again. 

He was falling in love. And he hated himself for it. 

_ What have you got to offer her? _ The voice in his mind taunted. 

_ The outlaw life ain’t for a lady like her. _

_ What kind of a future is that? _

_ You already failed before. _

Arthur’s face grimaced as familiar storm clouds began to gather in his head. He stared at his hands, wondering if he’d ever do anything of value with them, so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice Sophie come and sit next to him, still brushing her hair. 

“Ya shouldn’t come near me…” Arthur grumbled, his eyes not meeting hers. 

“_ Pourquoi pas _?” Sophie answered, a slight flirtation in her tone. 

Arthur didn’t answer, he simply got up and walked a few feet away, his back to her. Sophie stared at him as he gazed up at the stars, his hands in his pockets. 

Sophie raised herself and walked up to him, placing a small hand on his arm. Arthur felt himself crying out desperately her more of her touch, but against his will, he pulled his arm away.

Sophie pulled back her hand, gazing at the ground dejectedly. “Have I angered you?”

Arthur pulled his eyes away from the sky, but still couldn’t bring himself to look at her. 

“No, Sophie..”

“Then what is it?” Sophie looked back to him. “Am I not...” she stammered, unable to finish the sentence. She knew her heart would shatter if she did, already feeling tears forming at the corners of her eyes. 

Arthur managed to turn around and look at her, immediately regretting the decision. Dark curls framing her face, her eyes tinged with sadness, her lips full against the flicker of firelight. He felt his heart begin to beat wildly. 

Almost as if of their volition, he held his arms out to her, his mind screaming at him to stop encouraging this.

Sophie rushed into his arms without further prompting, her arms immediately encircling him. Arthur’s hand caressed the soft skin of her face. Sophie let out a breath as she leaned into his large, calloused hand. 

Her lips opened, speaking softly without a sound. Arthur’s embrace tightened around her as he closed his eyes and leaned in against her, the scent of honeyed roses filling his senses, and for a brief moment, he forgot everything. 

Forgot the harsh, cruel world they lived in. 

Forgot about the gang and his responsibilities. 

Forgot about the pain and anger of his past.

It was just the two of them. And it gave Arthur a feeling he hadn’t felt before. 

Hope.

But men like him didn’t deserve hope, and certainly didn’t deserve the softness and love of this beautiful woman in his arms. 

Not after everything he had done, or so he believed.

“Sophie..” he whispered into her hair, almost desperately. “Sophie...we shouldn’t…”

“Arthur please, do not push me away..I...” she pleaded, a tear now rolling down her cheek. 

Arthur felt his heart breaking as he wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Sophie...I have nothing for you. I wish I did.” he managed to say. “When this is over...you need to find yerself a good man and get out of here.”

Sophie looked up into his ocean coloured eyes, searching. 

“But I already found a good man…” 

“Stop saying that” Arthur’s voice deepened. “I’ve done nothin’ in my life worth honorin’ “. he finished before walking away from her, his body already missing the warmth she gave.

Sophie raised her hand, her mouth briefly open to say something, but refrained. A look of rejection overtook her soft features as she readjusting her shawl and walked back to the tent. 

Arthur looked in her direction as she stood at the entrance of the tent, holding the flap open but not entering. 

“Then perhaps, you should start.” Sophie offered in a quiet voice, her hurt and anger now returning as she disappeared behind the flap. 

Arthur sighed before looking back up at the sky. He had never questioned anything in his life. Not his motivations, his loyalty to Dutch and the gang, not a damned thing. 

But now...he never felt more lost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to open the floor to questions and suggestions from the audience! Let me know where you'd like to see this story go. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. :)


	12. The Confession of Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff of Strawberry makes a confession, and our heroes learn more about what happened that fateful night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaccccckkkk....

Vernon Farley stared at the haze of candlelight in the police station. His eyes glazed over in an alcoholic lens, he poured more whiskey into the awaiting shot glass on his oak desk. 

He had a lot to forget. 

It had been 3 months since the fire that overtook the bakery. And yet there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t think of her. 

Sophie’s face flashed in front of his eyes, her warm smile, her laughter. 

“Forgive me, Miss Sophie…” he muttered to himself, before quickly downing the glass. 

The nightmares were getting worse, now that they had crawled from the graveyard of his dreams. Because now… he saw her everywhere. 

He thought he saw her looking at him a few days ago, the dark curls of her hair tousled, stains of ash blotching her once beautiful face. 

Other times, he saw her in the night, her dress torn, her lips red..

The sheriff wiped his moustache with his calloused hand, his overgrown eyebrows now forming a deep frown. 

_ That stupid boy...it wasn’t supposed to be like this.  _

_ They were not supposed to die.  _

_ And he wasn’t supposed to… _

Immediately, he grasped the bottle of alcohol and threw it with all his strength into the fireplace. The fire erupted into a beast 4 times it’s original size, as lightning split the sky outside. 

The rain was now falling heavily, the streets of Strawberry flooding and draining into the canals. 

Breathing labourly, the sheriff fell to his knees, inebriated and tired. His eyelids heavily hovering over his irises, his last sight were the crackling embers of the dragon in the fireplace.

After what felt like an eternity, the sheriff’s eyes opened slowly.

And there she was.

He beheld a woman that haunted his memories and dreams. The look in her dark eyes, one of sadness and helplessness as she stood before him. Her off the shoulder blue pinstripe dress in tatters, her arms and face muddied by soot from the fire.

“Sophie…?” he grunted as he managed to sit upright on the wooden floor. 

The figure in front him stood motionless, still looking at him. 

It almost looked real.

The sheriff felt his chest tighten, and his blood began to run hot. She was still beautiful, apparition though she was. 

“Sophie…” he moaned longingly, trying to crawl toward her. “I’m sorry, Miss Sophie...I didn’t mean it..”

He closed his eyes and turned away, ashamed at himself. Thunder rang out again, and when Vernon reopened them, she was standing on the other side of the station. The candlelight had blown out from the wind, and now her form stood in darkness, Her slim frame hidden behind curtains of shadows that haunted the room. 

The sheriff managed to get himself up from the floor to face her. Standing in silence for what seemed like hours, he began..

“It weren’t my fault..” he began, leaning against his desk for support. 

The wind howled angrily outside at his response, but Sophie’s face did not change. Her dusty rose lips parted, mouthing silently..  _ why? _

“You weren’t supposed to be there..” The sheriff began, panting as his eyes roved over her. “You were supposed to be at Rigg’s station…”

His eyes stopped at the neckline of her tattered dress, barely hanging on to her breasts as her form breathed. Feeling shame, he looked away, but there was no denying the lust now beginning to coarse through his veins.

Looking back to the corner, her form had disappeared once again, now appearing in one of the empty cells. The barred door ajar...her form stood in the middle of the cell. Thunder and lightning rang out through the heavens, causing flashes of light to shine through the windows, half illuminating her figure where she stood. 

Turning to face her, he started again.

“I woulda made an honest woman outta you..I coulda made you happy..” he pointed a swollen finger at her, almost accusingly. “But you jes’ had to get involved with that Morgan..”

Sophie’s eyes widened at the mention of Arthur’s name. 

“Oh yes…” the sheriff taunted menacingly as he sauntered towards her. “I woulda given you everythin’...fer you to look at me the way you did that outlaw..” he practically spat in disgust.

Sophie’s form began to back away from him as he closed in on her in the cell, the thunder clattering throughout the sky, now seemingly angrier than before. 

“Yer a damn witch...” the sheriff muttered bitterly, his eyes now flashing fire. “Because since you came into my town...you bewitched me...”

Sophie’s form hit the cold stone wall of the cell, her hands splayed across the brickwork. 

Before the sheriff could throw his hulking body upon her, he felt a sharp pain from behind his eyes, before everything went black.

***

Coming to, the sheriff shook his head. The station was no longer dark, and the lamps were lit again. 

Everything looked as it did before.

Except he was in the cell, hogtied on the cot.

“What the..” he grunted in shock, trying to loosen his bonds. 

“Nice to see you decided to join us..” came a deep voice from nowhere.

Arthur leaned against the sheriff’s oak desk, lighting a cigarette. Waving the match to extinguish it, he carelessly tossed it at the sheriff, now helpless behind bars. 

“Morgan..” the sheriff growled, hatred clouding his vision at the presence of him. 

Arthur didn’t move or say a word, simply puffed on his cigarette and studied the helpless lawman as he struggled in his restraints. 

“So…” Arthur began, walking towards the cell. “...you burnt down that girl’s bakery..”

“I didn’t do shit..” Vernon growled, almost spitting in contempt.

“Then what was all that cryin’ and confessin’ happenin’ earlier? All that from the whiskey?” Arthur asked, eyeing the half empty glass bottle, his face grimacing after taking a whiff of it through it’s opened spout.

“You didn’ hear nuthin’...” the sheriff cried indignantly. 

Arthur’s gloved hand went to his sawed-off shotgun as he lowered the decanter of whiskey. 

“You fire on a lawman…” the sheriff began in warning.

“Wouldn’t be the first one..” Arthur drawled lazily as he drew his gun. Opening the cell door, Arthur swiped the sheriff across his face with the butt of his shotgun, instantly breaking his nose. 

“Want to start again?” Arthur yanked Vernon by his shirt collar to prop him back up against the bars, the sheriff’s face now smeared with his own blood. “We’re all ears.”

“ ‘ _ We _ ’..?” Vernon stammered, trying to quell the blood with his hands. 

Arthur motioned to Sophie, sitting quietly in the deputy’s station, her hands grasping Arthur’s jacket to cover her immodest dress. Her skin was pale and stained from makeup as her dark eyes narrowed onto the sheriff, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“Sheriff, the only reason yer not dead is because she’s here..” Arthur went on, calmly sitting down on a wooden stool he positioned in front of the subdued. “And normally, I would not expose a lady to such violence...” he continued as he placed his gun on his thigh. “But she was quite insistent. And well, I’ve never not obliged a lady..” 

Arthur flashed Sophie a smirk, but she did not return his smile. She sat quietly, a faint blush across her cheeks, almost as if now realizing how scantily she was dressed. 

Arthur’s heart felt tight at remembering their last encounter. While he was willing to help her, he knew he hurt her. 

And he saw it. 

Vernon’s eyes iced over as he glanced towards Sophie, her eyes meeting his. In a moment, her shame subsided to rage, an unknown strength to not look away.

“So how about we start again…” Arthur offered, turning back and slapping the sheriff hard across the face again with his strong hand. “And you tell us...exactly what is going on?”

“ I didn’t know they were going to..” Vernon began.

It was at this moment Sophie immediately came to attention, her eyes now flashing danger. 

“ _ Who _ ?” she asked, her voice tight. 

“If I tell you, I’m a dead man…” Vernon offered dejectedly.

“You’re a dead man if you don’t tell us..” Arthur raised his shotgun and pulled the hammer before aiming the barrel at Vernon’s knee.

“They wanted you, Morgan. That’s all I know.” Vernon sputtered, his breathing now slowing. “They paid me to look the other way. She wasn’t supposed to be there…”

“So you sent the telegram..” Sophie began, her hands now balled into fists. 

“I did it to protect you..” Vernon replied, almost apologetically. “ I did it for your own good..”

“My father almost died!” Sophie screamed, now walking quickly towards the disgraced lawman, stopping short in front of where he sat on the cot. 

“My father…” she breathed again, desperately trying to contain herself, each word dripping with fury. “You were there when we opened…”

Vernon looked away, defeated. Arthur couldn’t believe what he had heard. 

_ It was because of me.  _

_ Because of me, she lost everything.  _

“I agreed to it all...because I loved you, Miss Sophie.” Vernon whined, wiping the blood from his face. “I would’ve given you everything..”

Arthur’s lips formed a thin line before punching the sheriff again. Anger boiled over in this chest to the point he couldn’t breathe. Jealousy ran hot in his veins at the idea of another man wanting her. Vernon sputtered more blood at the blow. 

“Who were those men that night?” Arthur asked roughly, grabbing Vernon by his shirt collar. 

Vernon coughed, but did not offer a word.

Arthur lifted the sheriff effortlessly and slammed him against the iron bars of he call. Within minutes, instinct kicked in, and he couldn’t see or hear his surroundings. 

All he felt was rage, a n old familiar friend.

Vernon gasped for breath as Arthur’s large hand formed a manacle around his throat. 

“Arthur..” came Sophie’s worried voice from behind.

But he couldn’t hear her. 

  
“Arthur!” Sophie cried, this time placing a hand on his arm. “Please…” she pleaded, tears beginning to form in her beautiful eyes. 

Arthur’s gaze went back to her, and Sophie’s heart stopped. His ocean blue eyes, that normally gazed at her with gentleness, were now orbs of ice. Cold, desolate…

Unfeeling.

Sophie stepped back, fear and disbelief taking over her heart-shaped face. 

_ What have I done? _

This man was not who she had come to know. Until now, she never gave much thought to Arthur being an outlaw. But now, the curtain was pulled, the illusion was gone. 

This is who he was. 

Arthur saw it. The look of fear in her dark eyes. 

The one she gave him when he first met her. The one he’d hoped he’d never see again.

_ I’m a monster. _

Vernon struggled in Arthur’s grasp, still choking. Arthur took a deep breath before loosening his grip. Even though he was in control of the situation, he felt that he had already lost. 

Sophie wanted to run away, to be far away from all this. To be back in her bakery, with her father, doing what she loved. 

But there was no home. No safe place. 

Sophie turned to Vernon, now gasping for breath after Arthur threw him back down on the cot. Arthur walked to the other side of the cell to put some distance between them. He leaned against his arm propped against the bars, ashamed. 

Coming down to one knee, she placed a slender hand to Vernon’s face. Surprised, the sheriff looked up at her. 

“Please..” she whispered softly. “Who did this?”

Vernon closed his eyes as he leaned into Sophie’s touch. “It was…”

And then it happend. One lone gunshot broke out, hitting the sheriff in his rib cage. 

Sophie jumped immediately, screaming. “Nooo!” she went back to the sheriff’s lifeless body. “Vernon, NO!” she wailed, holding his face in her hands, hoping he was still breathing. But it was too late. 

Arthur immediately drew his pistols before immediately running to cover Sophie with his body. More gunfire erupted into the station, this time, one of the bullets hitting the oil lamp that sat on the sheriff’s desk. Kerosene began to spill, slowly engulfing a corner of the station in flames. 

Arthur grunted as a bullet hit him in the shoulder, but he held on to Sophie with both arms, the warmth of her body permeating through her clothes. Arthur closed his eyes briefly, trying to remember this moment...commit it to memory in his mind. 

He didn’t know if this would be the last time she’d be this close to him. Not after all this. 

He knew he was damning himself. He knew he couldn’t escape this any longer. 

He loved her. 

“We have to get out of here…” Arthur whispered to her, as she wriggled out of his embrace.

Sophie nodded, still looking sadly at the body of the sheriff with forlorn and despair. 

Arthur felt his heart shattering at the look in her eyes. The world she knew was being destroyed, and he felt powerless to stop it.

Arthur hurriedly emptied out the drawers of the desk, discovering a false bottom hidden in the rightmost drawer. Quickly, he shoved it’s contents into his satchel before grabbing Sophie’s hand and running outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys. Leave a comment and tell me what you think! :)


	13. I Keep Forgettin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie and Arthur escape Strawberry after the death of the Sheriff, but now, many questions linger. 
> 
> Who burned down the bakery? 
> 
> Who killed the sheriff?
> 
> And how long can Sophie and Arthur pretend they don't care about each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm so terribly sorry for being late with this chapter. I've been suffering from writer's block, and wondering where to take the story from here. 
> 
> Many drafts later, this is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

“Hold still..” Sophie whispered curtly, as she wringed a clean towel over a steaming bowl of pristine water. 

Arthur grimaced, but did not respond. “This ain’t necessary..”

Sophie tilted her head and looked at him with clear annoyance. “_ Ouvre ton chemise.. _”

“What?” Arthur groaned as he rotated his shoulder, the pain shooting through his arm. 

“Open your shirt.” Sophie repeated, a lilt of annoyance in her voice. Arthur’s eyes widened at her suggestion as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“You would not let me take you to a physician. Someone has to tend to your wound.” Sophie stated matter-of-factly, her eyes narrowing. Arthur searched her gaze for intent, but all he could see was hurt. And embarrassment. After fleeing Strawberry yet again, they took refuge in the abandoned house they fled to the night the bakery burned. They rode in quietly and to their surprise, no one followed them. Arthur was wounded following the shooting, but refused to have Sophie send for a doctor. 

“You could die..” Sophie scoffed, her tone defeated. 

“I’ll be fine..” Arthur immediately answered, not looking at her. He was knowingly avoiding her, because if he looked at her, he knew he would immediately lose. 

But now, she was pouting at him, however not in the same playful way she used to. And somehow, that just compounded the guilt he already felt.

Arthur rolled his eyes before unbuttoning his bloodied shirt. 

He watched as Sophie sauntered to his left side to examine his wound. Despite his best efforts, it was difficult to maintain a straight face through the pain. He felt her fingertips brush against his skin as very gently, wiping away the dried blood. But he would not give in. He refused to look at her. 

“So...where do we go from here?” Sophie asked as she wrung out the towel.

Arthur sighed thoughtfully, still looking away. “What did you make of what Vernon said? Did you know he felt that way about you? Did he give you any idea that he would..”

Sophie shook her head. “No…” she stopped short as her hands were immersed in the bloodied water, staring off into space. 

Arthur knew it was taking a toll on her, and he cursed inwardly. Everything was now more complicated. 

_ Who paid Vernon to look the other way while the bakery burned? To hurt me? _

_ And why were they coming after him? _

_ Could it have been the O’Driscolls? _ Arthur thought to himself. 

_ Couldn’t be..Colm O’Driscoll would never deal with the law, having escaped the hangman’s noose several times. _

_Who else knew of Sophie?_ Arthur's mind questioned._ John? Charles?_

_No, they wouldn't. They had no idea who she was. And they wouldn't do that to..._

Unconsciously, his eyes drifted back to her, watching as her head hung low, profound sadness anointing her face as she tirelessly cleaned the trail of the bullet. Arthur reached to touch her hand holding the bloodied cloth.

“Sophie..I’m sorry..for what happened back there..”

Sophie blinked, attempting to hold back tears now stinging the corner of her eyes. At his touch, she immediately rose to refill the basin, breaking away. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Sophie answered, as she came back with fresh water. “I was foolish..” Sophie whispered. “It is I who is sorry.”

“Darlin’..no..” Arthur rose to meet her dark eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No Arthur..I do..” Sophie sniffled, wiping her nose with her wrist as she gestured with her other hand for him to sit back down. Arthur obliged without argument.

“I...I had silly, young notions about...what we could be.” she began, her voice shaking. “I thought…” she shook her head. “I imagined...that...I had finally found someone who loved me. And I thought it fun….our times together. I had...ridiculous notions of romance, and adventures, just like the ones I used to read about in novels and books...almost like the story I wanted to read to you that night.” she sniffled again, fresh tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

“But the truth is...I never really knew you.” Sophie took in a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Every word she spoke felt like agony, death by a million cuts to her heart. 

“And even now, with nothing to my name, I still don't.” she finished, her bottom lips trembling as she bandaged Arthur’s shoulder. She wanted to quickly pull away and hide, hide away from the embarrassment and shock of admitting her innermost feelings. 

Just as she was about to get up, she felt a familiar warmth surround her slender hand. 

“Sophie...I..” Arthur began, clutching her hand tighter. He forgot how wonderful it was to be close to her. He thought back to that night in the bakery, a stormy night of passionate kisses and embraces cut short.

Sophie closed her eyes thoughtfully, feeling her face heat up at his touch. It took everything she had to pull away. 

Arthur watched her as she pour away the dirty water. Pouring clean hot water from the freshly boiled kettle on the fire, she picked up a fresh cloth to wipe away the remaining soot and make up from her arms and chest. Lathering with some soap she found stashed in the cabin, she splashed water on her arms and chest and lathered before reaching to adjust the small rectangular mirror on the wall. 

Immediately doing so, she saw a pair of heavenly blue eyes look back at her from behind. She turned around suddenly to see Arthur standing behind her, causing her to step back into the table top. 

Arthur, still shirtless and bandaged, scoffed to himself as he reached for the towel in the basin. 

“_Arthur, qu’est-ce que._.” she began, quietly startled. 

“Shh…” he hushed as he very gently lifted her arm to wipe away the soap bubbles. She should’ve pushed him away. This was highly improper. But Sophie stood motionless, and let Arthur take the lead. 

“Thank you…” he whispered in a low roar, taking this moment to step closer to her as he wiped her other arm. Sophie did not move, but enjoyed the feeling of his fingers slowly running along her arms as he cleansed her skin. 

“My name _ is _ Arthur Morgan. I never lied to you about that..” he began, gently wiping soap away, his vivid sky-coloured eyes never leaving hers.

“You were right..” he breathed, gently lowering her arm. “I am an outlaw.”

Sophie’s eyes closed, her lips becoming a thin line. There was no denying it now, and yet somehow, she still wished she could. A return to innocence that would never be.

Arthur sighed deeply before continuing his ritual. “My mother died when I was young. And my father...was killed in front of me.” He nodded thoughtfully before continuing. “A man named Dutch Van Der Linde took me in and raised me. But he introduced me to this...this life.”

Arthur wiped off the remaining soap off her arms before gathering her hands in his. “This is the only life I knew, and I was...happy with it, by and by….but then, I ran into a pretty French girl one day in Strawberry…” Arthur smirked at the memory. “...perhaps the first woman who’s tried to kill me within minutes of knowing me..”

Arthur inwardly braced for Sophie to strike him playfully, but it did not come. However, he did notice she was holding back a smile. 

He continued. “And when I met her….met you...I began to have those same foolish notions. Except, I wished that I was a better man…” Arthur’s voiced lowered an octave at those words, taking a step closer. To his surprise, she did not resist or push away. 

“I wished I knew better...did better...had more...to give someone like her.” Arthur scoffed again, looking down at her hands in his. “The life I lived...wasn’t a life for a lady. And I knew that because I…” he stopped, raising his eyes back to her. 

“Because…?” Sophie questioned.

“Because I lost on….other opportunities. Some…” Arthur felt heat fill his face with shame, a dark hole opening, beckoning for him to enter it’s cold, unyielding grasp.

“Arthur, _mon amour_…” came her gentle voice, slowly pushing away the darkness. “You don’t have to tell me…”

Arthur’s heart jumped at her term of affection, even though it racing miles a minute in his chest. . 

“I….Sophie, I….” he began, but he stopped short. If he continued, he felt what appeared to be sobs beginning to shake his ribcage. Sophie kept quiet, pressing her soft fingertips to his lips. 

  
“_C’est d’accord.._” she whispered, wrapping her lithe arms around him. Without hesitation, he returned her embrace, holding on as if he would crumble without her. Sophie’s head on his broad chest, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of her hair. 

  
They stood together, embracing, for what seemed like hours, neither one relinquishing the other. Arthur raised his hand to stroke the soft, midnight locks of her hair. 

“I keep forgettin’...I’m not supposed to love you, but I do.” Arthur whispered, almost pleadingly. Sophie raised her eyes back to his, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And I’d do anything for you..” he confessed, his eyes darkening.

A tingle went up her spine at his words. Sophie’s eyes widened at this admission, but words failed her. Perhaps, it was for the best, for she feared breaking this moment, that her voice would shatter it like a fine crystal.

He reached for her chin to lift her face as she felt his lips slowly tracing her collar bones before planting soft kisses along her neck. As pleasant as it was, nothing prepared her for when Arthur brushed his lips against hers. Placing her hand on his neck, she pulled him closer, slowly and deliberately kissing him until Arthur gently pulled away. 

No words were spoken, no pleas for more. Arthur immediately took her mouth again, this time with slightly more force than before. To his surprise, Sophie didn’t gasp or protest, she returned his kiss with equal ferocity. 

Arthur lifted her onto the table, forcing her against the wall. He reached for the straps of her chemise, hesitating slightly before he felt her nodding, tearing them away from her. 

Her fingers in his smooth brown hair, he heard her moans as he pulled away from her mouth to kiss her neck again, slowly pulling away at her shift to reveal the tops of her breasts. 

He stepped back to look at her, her lips red from his previous ministrations, his eyes warmed by lust.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, giving her one final chance to walk away. 

Sophie gasped harshly, her barely covered breasts rising and falling with each gulp for air. 

“Please…” she pleaded, wanting to sob. “End this. Tell me you love me, tell me you hate me, I don’t care anymore...just end this.”

Without hesitation, Arthur roped his arm under her knees, lifting her effortlessly before leading them both back to the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, dear reader, this can go one of two ways. Either the next chapter will be a steamy love scene, or we could fast forward to what happens after. 
> 
> The choice is yours. 
> 
> Tell me your thoughts in your comments! Always happy to hear from you!


End file.
